Green Season Storm

Posted in Monthly, Travel at 11:01 am by Pasha

The thunder that jolted me from slumber was louder than life; it was my first real Green Season Storm.

It was the sound of a gun shot, amplified by 50. It was the sound of a car crashing into an 18-wheeler as heard through a megaphone. It was the loudest noise in nature that I have ever heard. I did not see its lightening bolt.

When the crashing thunder sounded off, I was all of a sudden alert and holding tightly to Matthew, one arm around his neck and the other his chest. I didn’t open my eyes wide to investigate; my reaction was quite the opposite. I squeezed them tightly shut, and in the 30 seconds before we spoke, a gamut of scenarios played in my imagination.

Initially I thought it was an earthquake. I have never actually felt or heard an earthquake before, and I assumed that this is what it would sound like when the earth shifts. With earthquakes common in Costa Rica, I wondered if this was “The Big One.”

Then I thought maybe it was a tsunami. I could see the water rushing in and enveloping our bed. Like a playback of the 6-oclock news, I could hear the stories of people who heard the water before they felt it during the Indian Ocean Tsunami. I held on to him even tighter.

Finally I resolved that it was only thunder. But still, I waited for a tree that had been growing for a thousand years or more to crash through the roof of our bungalow and dare to separate us. My heart pounded and I was petrified.

Once I found my voice and spoke, I knew that the bark had been louder than the bite. After we went through each scenario and he logically expelled each one, Matthew hushed me back into my thoughts.

I listened to the storm as it lasted all night and into the next day. When it really rains in Manuel Antonio, all other sounds are drowned out. The giant drops form thick sheets of water and make a racket that is deafening. It sounds like the television has gone to fuzz and the volume has been turned up all the way and put on surround sound.

As the storm moved away, we heard it crashing in the distance. It was still so loud and startling, that surely everyone was jarred from sleep by its noise. The rain subsided to fat drops on our tin roof.

The thunder came less and less, but sometimes increased in volume, meaning it neared closer once more. The rain returned to its maddening ferocity. It came in waves throughout the night.

I lay awake, not able to control my pounding heart without holding Matthew tight for comfort. All I could think about was “What if?” I dared to think about a natural disaster that would separate us, him on one side of the broken earth and me on the other, teasingly able to see but not feel one another.

In those stormy hours, I remembered the thunder storms of my past. In my arms I could feel my little dog, and how we used to shake together when the thunder cracked and the rains pelted our window. I always knew if something happened, I wouldn’t be alone, she would be beside me.

When I finally retreated to my sleeping dreams, they were black and without worry. Each time I shifted in my sleep, a part of my body would still touch Matthew, a leg flung over his, his hand resting on mine.

Only in his touch, did I feel protected from the Storm.


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