THE BEAUTY OF A STORM.
The person standing by the window watching the progress of the storm may see some of its beauty, but he will miss the most vital part—its very spirit.
Perhaps the majority of people looking out of the window this morning exclaimed, “What a disagreeable day!” And so it might seem to those who remained indoors; and, alas! also to many pedestrians who are not attuned to Nature and who have not yet seen the wisdom of providing themselves with suitable attire for stormy weather, instead of foolishly clinging to the old idea that “anything will do to wear on a rainy day.”
These very likely were oblivious to the beauty which surrounded them and failed to be touched by the spirit of the storm.
To many besides myself, however, I hope it was a “beautiful morning.” When I started forth to walk the wind, which was quite strong, was blowing in fitful gusts, while the rain fell heavily, in spite of which state of things the note of a brown creeper smote my ear cheerily, assuring me that one little friend, at least, was sharing my enjoyment.
After about two hours, during which time the rain had not ceased to fall, I set out on my return walk. The first sound to attract attention, on again setting foot out doors, was the crackling of the needles in a tall pine tree, and I was surprised to note that the rain was freezing on the trees. It had not seemed cold enough. Very soon there was sleet mixed with the rain, which changed again presently to snow and sleet. Then the snow and the wind commenced a mad frolic, and Oh! how beautiful they made the world! Who could be deaf to the deep-toned music of the wind roaring through the upper branches of the trees!
The spirit of the storm entered into my veins and a wild delight seized me. I could have shouted aloud with the mere joy of living. The redbird’s call note was as the greeting of a friend, and the hairy woodpecker’s loud “pique” seemed to say “Hi! down there; this is a world worth living in!”
It is in such moments as these that our unity with Nature is most strongly felt and our co-partnership with the elements realized. We are as much a part of the great and wonderful universe as the stars or the clouds, the mountains or the sea.
Thus may the storm spirit embrace our spirit as the wind and rain and snow encircle our bodies. If the invisible and visible parts of our being be both equally prepared to face the elements, we shall return from our encounter with them exalted in mind and refreshed in body; with new life in our veins, and in our hearts new wonder at the beauty of Nature in her wilder moods.
Anne Wakely Jackson.
The snow-plumed angel of the north
Has dropped his icy spear;
Again the mossy earth looks forth,
Again the streams gush clear.
—John Greenleaf Whittier.