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Ominous rumblings sounding like muted kettledrums
Herald the imminent arrival of the next summer thunderstorm.
Low, dark clouds grumble peevishly on the distant horizon,
Split intermittently by flashes of heat lightning*,
Devoid of sound or fury,
Behaving rather more like small tantrums or dry subtle wit.
No ripping, or cracking, or showing off in any vulgar way
By slicing viciously through the fragile fabric of time
Like that other more vociferously dramatic kind,
But shimmering quietly as if Nature,
Or some lower echelon deity, or demon, is taking snapshots,
Perhaps later to be used as evidence against us at the final accounting,
Or maybe just teasing us with fragmented glimpses of eternity
Through jagged saber slashes of silvery energizing light.


*Heat lightning is the name used for the faint flashes of lightning on the horizon or other clouds from distant thunderstorms that do not have accompanying sounds of thunder. This happens because the lightning occurs very far away and the sound dissipates before it reaches the observer. The term is a little misleading because it has nothing to do with the heat of the lightning itself. At night, it is possible to see the flashes of lightning from very far distances, up to 100 miles, but the sound doesn't carry that far. Heat lightning can be an early warning sign that thunderstorms are approaching.

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