Happiness of the thunderstorm

Back in the days, when I temporarily moved in with my mom, I occupied a tiny room in the attic. The house was, still is, at the end of a dead-end road, on the border between the forest and the tiny village that has neither a shop nor a pub. But there’s green. Lots of it.
One sweltering summer day…

Back in the days, when I temporarily moved in with my mom, I occupied a tiny room in the attic. The house was, still is, at the end of a dead-end road, on the border between the forest and the tiny village that has neither a shop nor a pub. But there’s green. Lots of it.
One sweltering summer day, much like the one we just put behind us today, I worked with the window open and listened to Dvorak. And just like today, the weather changed within a very short time, with clouds grouping together like a pack of wolves, hurtling down rain and thunder and lighting on the little house at the end of the dead road.
I love this kind of weather. I left my window open and turned up the stereo just so that Dvorak and the sound of the rain falling were in perfect equilibrium.
Ever since, when there is a good spot of rain outside, I pull out that CD and listen to the rain and the serenade for strings, and I’m happy for the “Dvorak weather”.
It’s so easy to be happy if you can accept what you cannot change!

Leave a Reply