Elephant

One elephant 

A mountain view obscured

By a mass of clouds 

At first, grey, but then white, and silver, a hint of blue.

Sat at the end of an uncomfortable hostel bed.

Two elephant.

Scared shutters flay in the wind, 

Slamming shut on the window, like a teenager in rage.

My observations from the end of the bed: 

A relief as the pressure drops;

An almost solid density of clouds

A new way of seeing lightning, from within the cloud itself. 

A lightness at night

A day after solstice

A sky so charged with energy that lightning strives to meet the ground-connecting the sky to the earth for

a

singular

second

A lot of rain, some of it has sneaked past the window.

The bedsheet has unhooked itself from the corner of the mattress and is creeping away, in fear, maybe, that the storm’s rain will get it too.  

But this view calls more than the desire to tuck and straighten the bedding. 

Sheets of light - a sodium camera flash,

- a hint of landscape.

Idyllic mountain views, brightly lit, if  

only 

for

 a 

Three elephant  

strobing 

second.

Fleeting views of the valley.

Count the time between the lightning and the thunder.

Four  elephant.

Five elephant.

And although I love the mountains 

Right now

At 1:32am 

Six elephant, seven.

This storm steals my heart more

Than these tectonic memories, more than these peaks.

And although I love the mountains...

The Rhine Valley holds the storm in its rocky arms

And comforts it like a parent with a scared child.

Eight elephant.

Nine elephant.

And yet the crickets don't stop to appreciate the thunder. 

And the crickets, I don't think, count the elephants either. 

Nature continues its cacophony. 

Ten elephant

I guess there is comfort in that.