Whenever we experience unusual climates or unexpected weather, we seem to come up with clever names to explain the phenomena. For example, when I first moved to So Cal, windy days were attributed to the “Santa Ana winds”. They were to blame if your allergies acted up or if a grass fire was difficult to contain. If the day was overcast, it was because of “June Gloom”, although LA always seems to have June Gloom (or is just smog?). El Nino is to blame for rainy weather, and high temperatures? Global Warming.
For two days in a row, I experienced some really crazy weather. When it began, I was kind of startled and my colleague gave me a nod and said “Oui… Les Giboulées de Mars”, literally “The Thunderstorms of March”. I can only describe it as a sudden, unexpected burst of beating winds and rain, buffeting hail, and the release of violent thunder and lightning. Surprised Parisians are hiding for cover, things are flying in the swirling air or blown to the ground. Taxicabs suddenly have no problem finding business. Then, as swiftly and abruptly as “Les Giboulées” began, it passes through, revealing a clear, azure sky, air as cold and crisp as brushed steel, and a blazing, postdiluvian sun. The streets are blinding, with every watery surface reflecting unfiltered rays of light. As soon as the eyes adjust, everything looks sharper and more vibrant. This moment of contrast reminds me of just how stunning something as simple as blue skies and a blazing sun can be. While something like the Eiffel Tower is an amazing, graceful work of art, to be amorously stared at for ages, God’s artistry is greater to an imperceptible degree, to be enjoyed until the end of time.
Though I dread the downpour of another “Giboulée”, it might be worth it just for a chance to experience the clarity after a perfect storm.
Word to this brother. Psalm 19:1-6. Reminds me a bit of the Wilson book. Did you ever read it??