Summer Face-Off
A few nights ago I took my book out on the porch but I was disrupted by the looming clouds of doom high above me and accompanying and incessant roll of turmoiled thunder that gave no pause, no break. It sounded like a rumbling upset stomach and was so unrelenting, it started to make my own tummy turn. As it carried on with ominous wind that would be a gentle breeze were it not for the giant bowl of billowing gray soup brewing in the sky, I found myself feeling so unsettled in the tension that I could hardly handle it any longer, and I wanted to shout,
“JUST THROW UP ALREADY. YOU’LL FEEL SO MUCH BETTER.”
I love a good face-off with nature and I feel a little wild when a storm comes. The prelude is some kind of strange invitation, a beckoning. Its draw feels magnetic and subliminal, as people seem to suddenly drop what they’re doing and join the great gathering outside. Julian starts filming moody cinematics and I keep my focus skyward, fearing yet forcing myself to face the forming demon-foe that threatens with ferocity.
I love a stormy sky, particularly in summer. It’s hot. The temperature drops. Things get dark fast. I’m scared. Something is happening, and it’s thrilling. And when the demon finally takes shape and stares me down, I pivot, and always feel compelled to shout back, arms outstretched,
“Come for me, Gmork! I am Atreyu!”
Because as children of the 80’s, we know that Neverending Story, like everything from that time, was intended to unsettlingly, perhaps disturbingly educate as well as entertain, ultimately teaching us we are heroes, and preparing us for the decades down the road. To give courage when dealing with the inevitable darkness and various monsters that might be hunting us.
Because I like to acquaint myself with what’s chasing me.
Because I love for my demons to have a name and—though it’s frightening— if I’m lucky, sometimes even a face.
