The Storm

The sound of the birds had just stopped, the wind was still. If I had not been on the same trail for the last 40 minutes struggling my way up, I would of thought I had stepped into a different world. I was so glad the sun had sneaked behind the clouds as I had not thought to bring an over abundance of water with me on this hike. Long grass stood still on the west side of the path, guarding the small brook that was offering the only noise besides my boot steps.

I could see the top of the saddle getting closer. Seeing this sight gave me new energy. The thought of stopping and heading back down occurred to me long ago. I had considered making an excuse such as it was getting late and dark. But remembering that June in Alaska can pin you for being a liar like that, I had pushed on. Once I rounded that corner and saw my objective, I felt a new determination build in me. Grass faded to soft mossy ground and lichen covered rocks. Passing a small pile of shale and dirt next to a small hole, it reminded me that I had not heard any ground squirrels in a while, not to mention this was the first burrow I had seen in some time as well. Pulling my thoughts from a slow creeping feeling of desolation, I slowed my steps as I realized I had made it to the top.

Reaching this goal gave me a sense of elation. I knew I'd love the view, as I looked back over the trail I had just conquered like a Roman army that had marched over an Alpine pass. I felt accomplished and big. I wanted to 'rawr', but then I remembered how I loved looking over the edge of the ridge to the other side, so I turned around. As I moved forward, I noticed the clouds kissing the peaks on the other side of the valley. I had wondered if I would get rained out, but knowing the clouds over my head were not dark kept me going. Heavy clouds drifting on the other side of the valley were nothing but foreboding. I stood there taking in the scene before me, making mental notes. I could hear the river below, rushing toward the Inlet. That quiet little side valley had much more housing development then I had last remembered. I saw a small narrow road leading to a parking lot and barely visible trail that cut through the trees. The end result of that hike stopped at pristine aquamarine lake, set up in the bowl of the valley. The pure clearness of the lake paled in comparison to my building awe of what I realized that lay before me.

Those dark clouds, swirling slowly away from my position, suddenly gave a loud rumble. I had never experienced thunder in this manner before. Being on the ground, away from the stormy clouds as they rush past your house and rumbled is nothing compared to being near the seat of God and FEELING the rumble move though the sky. There were no visible precursor to this rumble so it's sudden appearance had taken me aback. I stopped seeing anything else the beautiful valley below me had to offer, only seeing the storm moving past those distant peaks. The mountain and valley reverberated again with the sound of thunder. You could almost see the sound rolling through the dark clouds, boiling with turmoil. I gasped, the first rumble had stunned me, but this second peal took my breath away. Standing in complete and utter awe, not feeling the hike of the last hour and half, not caring about how I had felt just 10 minutes ago. I was under the spell of small Alaskan thunder storm, typically they are nothing to write home about. But being at the base of the sky, and sharing this with only the surrounding mountain peaks made me feel like the small and insignificant human being.

The air felt heavy, and deep, like a low pressure storm that threatens to take your world away. Thinking it was my shock of the booms and rumbles sounding from the clouds, until realized that I could feel the effects of the storm as well. A flash of light stopped my heart for the barest moment, then not half a second later the loudest rapport made its entrance, and traveled across the cloudy sky. I should of been in complete fear and made my way down the trail, hoping I didn't become a human slice of toast, but I could not move. I felt the power, and wanted to see more. I had realized that my lips were moving and could hear myself in a stunned whisper repeating over and over "oh my God, oh my God." I meant it too. I felt in the presence of a deity who could smite me for not being the good minion and doing as he said. Trying to stop myself from the quieted chant, a soft rumble traveled from the furthest point away, across the valley to my ridge and it silenced me. I wanted to feel washed over by rain, feel it on my face, but it never came. It was only for the valley to feel washed and anointed, not the little person on the lip of the valley witnessing the strength of nature.

I don't know how long I stood there, I don't remember how many thundering booms I had heard, or how many bolts of cloud to cloud lightening that danced in the sky. I just remember that there is always something out there bigger than yourself and in an instant it can command your life with it's every whim, and you haven't the power to stop it.