On The Gold Coast: The Storm, The Dog, And Me
"Spectacular rivers of lightning continued to flood the sky and the thunder applauded the show.'' Judith Wallis brings comfort to a surprise visitor, a golden retriever, while a dramatic Queensland storm rages.
A loud clap of thunder woke me shortly after midnight. I quickly closed the windows and, awed by the magnitude of the storm, stood looking out across the street.
Roll after roll of thunder crashed overhead. As a child I counted the seconds between the flash of lightning and the thunder. There were no spaces in this storm. Continuous runs of forked lightning seared my eyes, the following momentary darkness impenetrable.
Before the last rumble of thunder faded a second crescendo shook the house.
Earlier in the evening a group of young footballers had gathered for a barbecue and pool party a few doors down the street. I could hear their exhilarated shouts as they splashed in the pool. As the storm increased and rain fell in blinding sheets obliterating my view of the world outside, their voices rose higher as in defiance of nature, they partied on.
I lit candles and the soft glow created an oasis of peace and tranquility within the room. The sound of a vehicle in street drew me back to the window and as the utility drove past I heard the loud speaker. ‘Please stay indoors. Would everyone please remain safe indoors.’
Twenty minutes later the vehicle returned and the voice on the speaker repeated the request. At 2am the boys were still in the pool and the driver of the utility continued to circle the streets broadcasting his warning.
Spectacular rivers of lightning continued to flood the sky and the thunder applauded the show, the torrent of rain unceasing.
I stood at the window, my hands cupped around my eyes, straining to see the broken branches that littered the garden. What was that? Something moved.
Through the rain walked a weary dog. Head bowed, plodding slowly, so slowly up the drive. A golden retriever. I opened the door and the dog came without hesitation. Water streamed from its coat and the rasping breath filled the room.
Towel after sodden towel was thrown in the wash tub as I laboured to dry and warm the dog. Soon his coat was fluffy and soft and having satisfied his need for food and drink he laid his large head in my lap and closed his eyes.
Outside the storm still raged. The noisy pool party was finally over. I sat on the floor my hands resting on the dog, feeling the slow rhythm of his breathing.
In that moment the eye of the storm passed us. For a few minutes in time every thing was still. Silent. No wind. No rain. In the light of the one remaining candle, the boundaries of the room lost in darkness, we were caught in a capsule of peace, a stranger’s dog and me.
Sleepy now and ready to return to my bed, I coaxed the dog to a folded rug I had placed in the porch and, leaving the outside door open, left him to sleep.
When I woke, watery sunshine revealed the real power of the storm. In the next street roofs had been ripped from the houses, trees uprooted and power poles laid flat. The dog had gone. I felt confident he would have found his way home.
Whenever I think back to that night, to the glow of the candle-light and the feeling of peace, of being protected, I know I have yet another blessing to add to my list.
