I was dreaming. I was in a bowling alley. It was the duck league against the chickens and the ducks were ahead. The ball rolled down the alley and scattered pins for a perfect strike. Lights flashed. A roar went up from the crowd. Then another loud roar even deeper as thunder shook the house.
I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was 4:47 a.m. Another brilliant flash of lightning and another crash of thunder. In the quiet that followed Thomas jumped on the bed and stomped his way to my chest. He looked into my eyes and his purring joined the rumble in the sky.
All our windows were open to move the hot summer air around, so I had no problem knowing our truck-driving neighbor was also awake and backing his rig down his driveway. Beep, beep, beep, beep.
Another flash and a roll of thunder, then more. Even with my eyes squeezed closed I could see the light popping across the window. Thomas continued to purr—hoping, no, demanding an early breakfast. All the noise woke up our neighborhood skunk and he went out for a pungent stroll right by our house.
The rain swept in with a rush of wind. DH jumped out of bed and hurried out to move some boxes in the shop away from possible incoming water.
It was a long time before sunrise but I decided it was useless to try and sleep. I turned off the waiting clock alarm, got up, fed Thomas and went into the next room and put my yoga DVD in the player. The instructor assured me the routine would leave me, "refreshed and energized for the whole day."
The storm finally reeled off to the east. Stars peeked through the clouds. The sun was still in bed.