Carry on Tuesday

Dark clouds roll across the sky bringing heavy rain and cracks of thunder.
Lightening strikes the ground here and there.
High on the mountain he watches as the clouds make their way across the plains.
It is a seductive picture that Mother Nature has created. Rains are not due for sometime.
This year they come early. Animals scatter, seeking cover from the fury that is coming.
The sky now covered with the darkness. He looks back searching for an end to it.
Rays of sunshine creep through the few cracks the clouds leave open.
The talisman around his neck rocks to and fro as the storm moves on past.
The wind, whistling its broken tune. His hair blown about slapping his face then retreating.
The edge of the storm teases him. Will it come his way or just flirt with him?
It chooses the latter. It spits at him. A lightening strike not more than a hundred yards does not cause him any angst. He just stares into the eye of the storm. His eyes focussed on the emptiness of it all.
The cry of his new born stirs him.
His partner still weak from childbirth does her best to comfort their child.
Their shelter a small cave. A fire burns with joyful crackles. The smell of meat cooking reaches his nostrils and the wind quickly takes it away.
As the storm passes he turns and sits with his woman and child.
Taking the meat from the fire he tears at it. Sharing equally between the two of them.
He strokes her face and then looks out once more across the plains.
He asks himself whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life.

Steve Boddey July 2008