Gratitude....

Ya know?

I’m not exactly yer run of the mill gratitudinous kinda gal…

I’m not into the daily affirmations. I don’t have to keep telling myself how wonderful I am. I’m not on a never ending quest to find myself.

Periodically however events unfold that put me in the position to feel real gratitude…

Something sent me out the door this evening in search of ice cream…of the Dairy Queen persuasion. As I stepped out the door I was pelted by several fat wet drops and I stopped for a moment to “wtf?”

It’s been blistering hot here on this Island and once I realized it was actually raining as opposed to someone peeing out a window I couldn’t help but smile. Mother Nature has a way of taking care of herself doesn’t she? I was thinking about how one good evening of rain will bring the lawns back in our neighbourhood…that’s all it takes in the rainforest…one good night of rain. Not to mention the break in the heat being well deserved.

I live on a peninsula on an Island in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of British Columbia Canada…while the Island is a good size…the peninsula can be walked from east to west without too much trouble. On the West side of the peninsula, and across a bay is a small mountain (small for this province anyway...this is after all “Rockies” country) and as a result I rarely get to see sunsets. Although due to some rather inauspicious culling of the trees around my apartment building the sun does go super nova in my living room from about 1 pm daily till it sets behind the mountain (the Malahat) and as a result I’ve purchased black out drapery liners…so I’m never quite sure what’s going on outside at any given time.

As I get in my car I see a bolt of lightning and catch myself war hooping as I climb into the car.

See? I’m from Thunder Bay…on the North West side of Lake Superior….I’m used to thunder and lightning storms a plenty and we lived almost at the top of a big hill so that when a big storm rolled in we seemed to get it twice once coming and once going. And while storms over the ocean are often violent and breathtaking they can be equally so yet differently so on Superior. Here in the rainforest while it rains for seemingly months…not so much with the thunder and lightning. Really…like maybe 5 times in 10 years have I seen or heard a good thunder storm.
So I drive down the peninsula heading towards DQ along the east side of the peninsula and along the water. I’m smiling at the mist rising off of the pavement and the rain pelting down and bouncing back up bringing the temperature down to a decent level and once more thinking that our Lady Gaia has a grand way of showing us who’s boss.

From where I live, our local DQ is located in the town of Sidney by the Sea some 15 to 20 minutes from me and they have a long boardwalk, break wall and beach (when the tide is out) facing the ocean with just enough room to park and watch. While we are Canadian this particular break wall faces Washington State and there are always lots of sailboats moored across the way and out of the way of the Annacortes Ferry path.

I pull up and park just as the sun breaks below the deep dark low hanging clouds behind me on the other side of the peninsula.
The sunset is phenomenal…it is every colour of red, orange, yellow and pink that you can imagine….and many colours in between. And because it is scurrying under the layer of huge flat black clouds it shines brightly directly across the peninsula, blasting over me and across the ocean in front of me like some kind of spot light, to the far side of the bay lighting up the mist rising off of the water and the sailboats moored a mile er so off the beach drenching it all in the many shades of red and gold and orange and pink it encompasses.

I look up to spot not one but two huge and distinct rainbows reflected against the same black clouds….one above the other…one longer and one shorter but both encompassing the whole vista as if to say “here! Here lies the treasure! along this shore…this shore…this one!”
Just as the thought passes through my mind I see a huge bolt of fork lightning spear through the dense black and grey clouds from south to north and I quickly roll down my window and count “one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand, five one thousand…” and am relieved of the task counting by the following crack of a huge clap of thunder.













Now that’s what I’m talking about!

I sit there for possibly 30 minutes, watching the ocean slap against the break wall, the sunset on the sailboats, the rainbows getting darker and brighter and 4 more huge, sky encompassing bolts of lightning followed closely by my count and the booming claps of thunder.
I look up to find I am not alone.

Where once I was the only person in a car watching this fantastic light show…I find that I am now one of probably 20 cars lined up facing the boardwalk and the water and the sunset, and the lightening, and the rainbows and the sailboats.…awestruck and dumbfounded by its magnificent splendor.

Rather sheepishly, one by one I hear cars turn over and people begin to pull away but still I stay to watch…till the sun goes behind the Malahat and there is no more light on the sailboats across the way.

I eventually start my car and pull out to drive home, ice cream forgotten.

I can’t help but think that not only has Mother Nature put on a truly spectacular show this evening…but that she allowed it to happen at a time when my poor old broken peepers were working right and I got to see it…

That, you see...is where the gratitude comes in.