Thunderstorms On My Grandmother's Front Porch
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite places to be was on my grandmother's front porch during a thunderstorm. The fragrance alone was intoxicating... transporting. The huge magnolia tree in the front yard would sway and tremble in the wind and the scent of the blossoms would float inside the screened porch. The thunder would rumble and roll over us and we would count, my brother and I, one- two- three- four, from thunder to lightening to see how far the storm was from us. We didn't know the calculations but the counting gave us something to do while we sat together on the old and rusting glider swing. The aroma of roses, gardenia and camellias drifted past us and the rain splashed the cracked sidewalk outside the screened door. A cool dampness filled the air but I never felt the chill. I love rain and a thunderstorm on a screened front porch, for even today, when I am caught in the rain, I am eight years old again and sitting on my grandmothers rusty glider swing, counting with my brother. A Southern Spring rain...it's intoxicating.
What are some of your favorite memories?