I study the anvil cloud through the swish of my wipers. Dark sheets of rain veer from cloud to ground as lightning zigzags through the electrically-charged air. Off to the east, I see blue. It’s been like this since I left this morning. Thunderclouds, clear sky, rain, sun… Traveling alone on I-55 from St. Louis to Madison in the late summer of 2012, I make my way through the remnants of Hurricane Isaac.
As I approach the cloud, I turn up my wipers and prepare for another downpour, hoping I’m not driving into the beauty of a rain-wrapped tornado.
I chant my war song . . .
a hare
in the falcon’s eye
