Chamber Music

I awoke Monday morning. It was thundering outside. I rolled over and looked at the clock. Four on the dot.

I rolled out of bed like a man on a mission. I went into my office/extra bedroom and grabbed an old quilt. After feeling around in the dark a moment, I found my favorite little pillow.

I turned still about half asleep and headed for the living room. There I sit down in my recliner, adjusted the quilt just so, and then made sure the pillow was crumbled until it fit my neck perfectly. A grabbed the handle and laid back.

Right on schedule there a was a bolt of lighting followed by a loud clap of thunder. Then the rains began to hit my deck and splatter on a milk jug that I placed in just the right place earlier in the week.

I smiled and pulled the quilt up around my neck. The concert had begun. The rain was splashing on the wood deck and banging on the half filled with water milk jug. My wife had told me to move the jug just the day before. She doesn’t appreciate the same type music as I do.

With all the sounds coming from the deck, I begin to notice the steady pinging on the chimney. It has a ten topper. I was fighting sleep now. This was like a sedative to me.

Again, came the lightning followed by the base drum of thunder. Just then, my ears picked up the tick tock of the mantel clock. It is over 100 years old.

It came to me that someone lived a hundred years before most likely had heard this same symphony being played.

Some times when I am writing I will load my CD player with Chopin, Schubert, Bach and even Tchaikovsky if I am in the mood. Still none of these great musicians can come close to the orchestra that only plays in my living room in the quiet hours of morning during a thunderstorm.

I prayed a little and then day dreamed for a moment. I couldn’t fight the lullaby for long. Soon I drifted off into a dream world that only comes along a few times each year.

We are seriously talking about selling our house. We aren’t old yet but at the same time, we can no longer call ourselves young.

The kids have all long gone and the last pet has died. It is time to give our house to a family that is full of giggles, laughs, meows, and barks.

I miss those sounds. Soon I will add to the list, weather chamber music.

Something to think about. Youth is wasted on the young. They don’t appreciate it.

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