STORMY SUMMER NIGHTS by Sheryl Jordan

I enjoy summer for all it has to offer, but one of my favorite parts is the nighttime storms. There’s a special magic to summer nights when the sky is restless. As the last light of day fades into dusk, a silence falls over the night, a false calm before the storm’s symphony. The air, thick with the smell of warm earth, seems to pulse with anticipation. I always tell those around me that I can smell the rain coming. They gaze at me, some say, “You can smell the rain?” Others say, “I smell it too!” (Yes, petrichor, storm scents are real!) In these moments, the environment teeters between sluggish heat and the vibrant anticipation of rain.

The Prelude

Stormy summer nights begin with subtle signs. The breeze, once gentle, stiffens and shifts, curling around porch columns and through open windows.  Somewhere in the distance, a rumble of thunder announces itself as though a whisper from the heavens.

As twilight deepens, clouds swirl overhead. Lightning flashes on the horizon, briefly illuminating the darkening sky with jagged silver streaks. For some, these moments bring anxious preparation: windows are closed, candles and flashlights are found, and pets are brought inside for shelter and comfort. For others, there's excitement in the approaching storm, a sense that nature is about to put on a spectacular show.

The Unleashing of the Storm

As the initial heavy raindrops strike the hot pavement, the world seems to pause briefly. The sound pattern starts irregular, then quickly shifts into a consistent rhythm that drowns out the hum of air conditioners and the buzzing of insects.

Lightning streaks across the sky in a spectacular display, illuminating familiar landscapes in a haunting effect. Thunder follows, sometimes seconds later, sometimes as a deafening, immediate roar. In these moments, the lines between indoors and outdoors blur. People stand on covered porches, counting the seconds between flash and sound. Children press their faces against the glass; their faces are lit with awe and a hint of fear.

Within the storm’s embrace, time appears to bend. Minutes seem to stretch into small eternities as the wind howls and rain pounds rooftops. Power may flicker and go out, plunging homes into darkness broken only by the intermittent flashes of lightning and the glow of flashlights and candles (unless you have a generator, of course). Conversation shifts to whispers, stories, and secrets best kept in the cozy cocoon of a summer storm.

Beauty Amidst the Turmoil

There is a wild, unrestrained beauty in nights like these. Trees dance fiercely in the gusts, their limbs bending but rarely breaking. Water rushes, gathering in puddles that reflect the jagged light above. Somewhere, frogs contribute their voices to the chorus, a deep counterpoint to the frantic song of the rain.

The world outside is transformed. Lawns glisten, streets shine like rivers of ink, and flowers, battered and brilliant, seem almost to glow in the storm’s strange illumination. The air, once oppressive, is now laced with coolness and possibility.

Stories and Memories

Stormy summer nights tend to bring people closer. On screened-in porches and under awnings, neighbors gather, attracted by the display and their shared vulnerability. Old stories resurface: the time lightning struck the oak in the yard, the blackout that lasted until dawn, and childhood games played by candlelight. Laughter mixes with the rain, and for a moment, the world feels smaller and more personal.

Inside, families rediscover forgotten rituals. Board games emerge, stories are told, and the light of a flashlight reads books. The usual distractions—screens and schedules—are rendered irrelevant by the storm’s command. There is, in these hours, a return to simpler joys and the comfort of togetherness.

For individuals alone, a stormy night can become a moment for introspection. The noise outside encourages inward calm—a perfect opportunity to sit by a window and observe the world being transformed, while listening to the natural symphony of water and wind. In solitude, there's a strange feeling of connection: to the earth, to the weather, and to everyone who has ever watched summer rain fall.

The Calm After the Storm

Eventually, the fury subsides. The rain tapers off, the thunder recedes, and the clouds start to break apart, revealing glimpses of moonlight. The world appears washed and glistening, the air fresh and clean as if the night itself has been reborn.

The aftermath has its own enchantment. The sharp scent of petrichor lingers, blending with the fragrance of wet grass and blooming flowers. Fireflies resume their dance above the damp lawns, their lights brighter after the darkness that came before. The distant chirping of crickets returns, first tentative, then bold and insistent.

Walking outside barefoot on the soaked earth, one feels the storm’s deep, almost mythic, sense of renewal. The worries of the day before seem smaller somehow, as if the rain has washed them into the gutters. Sleep comes more easily and more deeply, carried by the lullaby of raindrops and fading thunder.

I love a good summer storm, whether during the day (especially when a beautiful rainbow appears on the horizon afterward) or at night. There is something about summer night storms that sparks something in me. I don’t mean the storms that cause destruction and harm to people or property. I enjoy relaxing and binge-watching a good show or movie (if the power doesn’t go out). Sometimes I catch up on reading or writing. When the power is out for a while, I enjoy sitting in the dark, chatting with my family, or lying in bed just listening to the rain and thunder until I doze off to sleep.

Do you enjoy summer storms? What do you like or dislike most about them?