It was in the middle of the night. It was one of those moments where I was not trying to sleep, but I was letting my eyes stay open. I was staring into the darkness, listening to the steady pitter – patter of the rain.
Suddenly, a flash caught my eye. It was a flicker of white against the orange sky, not an intimidating bolt. Could there really be lightning in this quiet weather? I waited for the thunder to come, but all I could hear was that same, steady, soft, drip – drop of the rain. I was tired, but I crawled up to the window.
Another flicker caught my eye. It suddenly occurred to me how special this was, how fascinating, that the sky could flicker. That nature could bring a bright spark. That it could be shocking, or peaceful. That the sky could go from orange to white to orange again, all in a flash. That a girl could stare out her window in the peaceful nighttime, marveling at this quiet lightning, absorbing its wonder. That that girl was me.