The Storm (September 2011)

by Eva Estes

I love my life. I have lived in the Yucatán Peninsula for 10 years, transplanted from Texas. I have lived in a dormitory room and worked with green and loggerhead turtles, coral reefs and wetlands—looking out for the fragile environment here. I have lived in the Pueblo and have seen the beauty of the family structure of the Maya and also have lived in the harsh environment of the jungle. I have had the blessing of meeting and learning the culture of the Aztecs, and am always a student of the history of this beautiful country of México.
At the present time I live in a small, beautiful space overlooking a marina that opens into the Caribbean Sea. My favorite pastime is watching the boats come in and out, some for recreation, some for making a living.

Today, I look out my balcony window and I see a dark and ominous sky forming. And I say to myself, "Uh-oh, we're in trouble." There is no prediction of any rain or storm. It comes quickly. Lightning starts striking and, before it quits, thunder is right on top of me, rumbling through the skies, shaking the ground and buildings. I quickly turn off everything, open my window, and watch the beauty of this intense energy. Strike after strike, thunder clapping and rumbling, ear-deafening, I can feel it in my throat, my heart, my whole being. The rain is so thick, you cannot see anything in front of you, only feel and smell the ozone.

The next thing I see is a small fisherman's boat. The canvas roof has been ripped away. There are five men, all wearing white, with skin deeply bronzed by days at sea, their dark hair plastered to their skin. They are standing, all of them, while the lightning flashes, their hands in prayer form, but they are brave like warriors, while humbled by and at the mercy of such power. I am struck instantly by their valiant and deep-rooted formation, and also am in awe of their strength of stance and trust. The energy of this storm is permeating all of our souls with a very swift and powerful speed.

After 30 minutes, the thunder becomes a distant rumble, the rain becomes softer, pattering on the beautiful trees, giving them a drink of life and survival. White clouds roll in and blue skies reappear, turning the dark waters back to turquoise.

Peace, and finally silence—as if nothing had ever happened.

Gracias a Dios for this experience I will never forget.

The storm by Eva Estes

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