Charging Buffalo, Hidden Dragon (Part 3)
04 January 2016
11401
My grandfather passed early in the Spring, sitting on his porch watching a rainstorm. I wasn't there, hadn't even been in the state for more than a decade as I pursued my career in places more heavily populated and far less inclined to be fascinated by the power of mother nature. That didn't stop me from picturing the smile that would have splashed across his face as lightning flickered and he counted out the distance to the thunder. One Mississippi. Two choc-late pudding. Three cans of Pringles. And so on.. every set of five silly second long phrases marking a mile's distance to the bolt of energy.