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A thunderstorm blew through here this afternoon.
It's been hot and humid, so much so that it feels like you're swimming though the atmosphere. Perfect conditions to generate a thunderstorm. The sky becomes hazy and a sense of static electricity hangs all around. In the distance, you can see the tops of clouds that are forming to hold the moisture that will soon be released in torrents upon the earth below that begs for the cooling release. Soon, a rumble of distant thunder alerts you that the show has begun as lightning strikes jump from cloud to cloud, and sky to earth. And, if you catch a breeze just right, you can smell the rain from miles away.
I love thunderstorms.
I like to sit on the front porch, put my feet up on the railing and watch the light show, listen to the claps of thunder and feel the wind blowing over my face. Sometimes the lightning strikes close enough to charge the air with ozone, and the resultant thunderclap shakes your soul. Sometimes it seems that the wind will take the very house and lift it up to the heavens. All the time the rain is pouring down - God washing the earth and providing needed sustenance for all life.
American Idol this season was like a thunderstorm. A final dozen artists head and shoulders above the rest, like cumulonimbus clouds rising miles above the landscape below. An atmosphere charged with electricity and excitement, waiting to transform the auditorium into a display of artistic brilliance. Thunderous applause waiting to be unleashed after the final notes have died down, sometimes almost instantaneously after a blinding, close to the heart performance, or more slowly and with less intensity after a performance that strikes not so closely. The winds of personal preference blow through it all. Wild intensity, when all forces are present, and the anticipation of a show to remember.
As the show progresses through the season, as the storm rages full, with the brilliance of the performances and the soul shaking response of the crowd responding to a full-fledged downpour of awe-inspiring talent, and each viewer choosing which wind to follow, we know that a conclusion to the storm is not far off.
After a storm, the earth is refreshed, the air is clear. The ground is rejuvinated, and life is thankful for the blessing of rain. I remember the brightest flash of lightning, the loudest clap of thunder, the strongest wind.
I am here at KatharineFans to celebrate a storm. To celebrate the intense lightning with which Katharine Hope McPhee brightened my life. To celebrate the thunder with which Katharine Hope McPhee shook my soul. To celebrate the breeze that is Katharine Hope McPhee blowing over me.