The Storm: My first vivid memory and the first major influence, outside of my family, that would be a major influence on who I was, who I was to become. A catharsis. I was barely one then, but I remember it as clear as if it played out before me now. It was the wee hours of the morning and I had a scarlet fever temp. I was fussy, did not feel good and demanded comfort. Now. In those days, what I wanted I received. My father held me in his arms and I settled, one arm firmly clamped around his neck, the other tucked allowing perfect thumb sucking position. He softly sang to me as he walked, paced back a forth through what I would shortly learned we called 'The Den'. Comfy and safe, I relaxed and watched the scenery go by, the large picture window black with night. Soothed, I allowed myself to sink into the comfort. My eyes were all but closed when suddenly, THERE! in the far upper corner of the window ... a blue-white streak, almost too fast to catch, flashed then disappeared back into inky black. I remember something in my mind went 'click'. Suddenly I was not the center of the universe. There was something out there that was bigger than I was and it was calling, loudly, to join. I waited. THERE! I can still feel the small thrill that ran through me, feel things in my head whirl. My father must have caught the flash, because he stopped pacing and turned, moving me so that now I sat forward in his arms. I chanced a quick look at him, seeking what? Approval, encouragement? ... No, I needed to know that he saw what I did, that it called to him too. All I could see in the soft dark of the house was the outline of his smile. That was enough. I would take care of the rest later. Then, AGAIN! this time bigger, closer to the center of the window. I was afraid to blink, my insides racing. I squealed in delight, all effects of the fever gone, even my thumb forgotten. I held my breath. AGAIN! YES!! I began to make calculations. AGAIN! The thrill remained. Then, something new; this time, there followed a low rumble. I tensed and heard my father say softly: "Thunder." The light flashed. "Lightening". As the storm moved and the lightning expanded and the thunder increase, something inside me changed. The Storms intensity any my inner awakening expanded, together. Many years would pass before I would truly understand my penchant for dark, stormy skies, downpours and the night itself. I would play and frolic in the sunlight, but I lived for 'The Storm', the 'Fix' and the ever-new rush it filled me with. Addictive, all consuming, a life-dominating drug; a drug I needed that fix to feel whole, to function. From that moment on, I would run from the house to stand in the rain, to stand in the flash and rumble, waiting for it to fill me. For this, truly, was proof that magic existed, was real. The effects of reality can be devastating when Life's Lessons tell you over and over that what you really believe to the core of your being is a lie. There is no magic in the world; more painful, that there is no magic in the hearts of others. It is not so much the laws of Physics that rip and tear, but the closed hearts and minds, the refusal to 'see' that rends. Disillusioned, the incredible enchantment within torn, stone by stone, faith drained pale. You begin to believe that you are responsible; you are at fault for what others lack. You didn't do enough, should have tried harder. They fail because you failed. In the end, the totality and weight of responsibility all but unbearable. But, they do rage, storms do; now unbidden and intrusive. Ungodly power, unfettered and beyond control they wreak unbearable havoc and destruction at even the slightest of touches. What once was a rush becomes a never-ending assault from within. The sweet taste turned to brine. A brilliant mind devastated by their power and unfulfilled promises. It is overwhelming, the crush of dreams. Now they are only glimpsed in the momentary flash within the Storm. I still run to the call of rain. I still run out to embrace the flash and rumble. And only then, when the Storm speaks do I remember that I really do still believe in magic.