It's not always about the food -- but somehow it comes back to it

I love thunderstorms. They always make me feel so cozy; that's the best way I can think of to describe it. In Seattle, we very seldom get thunderstorms. But we have one tonight. More than two hours ago we started watching flashes, and discovered they were 60 miles away. But they marched toward us, and I was fascinated. What a rare treat. When the thunder rolls on for ten seconds, it can seem like forever. Then a few minutes ago I realized that exactly a week ago I was staying up late to watch a total lunar eclipse. Yet another occurrence that is so powerful, yet untouched by the hand of man. Indeed, thunderstorms and eclipses are pretty much oblivious to us, except that we do give lightning some attractive targets -- but it would find a target with or without us. Another thing that happened today also reminded me of my place -- I caught a fish. Not a big fish, but one that will make a decent meal for two. And I felt bad, because I was killing the fish, and sad. That poor fish was oblivious to me, until I tricked it into eating something it shouldn't. But I also felt fulfilled, satisfied somehow, using my own skills (or those of my husband, probably) to provide a meal for us. And I was reminded of something very basic -- I always need to be mindful of where my food comes from and not take it for granted. Anyway...ling cod for dinner tomorrow!