When I read the topic of Silver Bloggers' initiative #23 about ‘My greatest fear’, I knew immediately what I had to write about. There are fears that paralyse your legs, and there are others that grow and change with you, as if they were your shadow. Mine, curiously, had a sound long before it had a form, and it lived up there, perched on a mountain in my Venezuelan Andes.
When the sky roared blindly (Under 8 years old)
My childhood was not colourful, it was pure sounds and sensations. As I was blind for the first 8 years of my life, I lived purely by ear; my hearing was my compass, but also the door through which my greatest terror crept in: thunder.
We lived in a high area, in La Laja, perched atop Monte Carmelo, in Cordero, Táchira state. Anyone familiar with the Andes knows that the mountains there are a brutal sounding board. When the storm broke and the storm arrived, the sky didn't sound... it roared. Imagine being a little kid who can't see where the danger is coming from; that noise was maddening.
Courtesy of Bing AI and DALL-E 3.
I felt exposed to danger, as if the sky I could only imagine was breaking into pieces right above my head, and I didn't know where to turn. My refuge was always the same: the dark, cramped space under my bed.
The frightening light (Ages 9 and up)
Life, or God, gave me my sight back after a series of operations when I turned 9. Anyone would think, ‘Great, now that he can see, his fear will go away.’ Not at all! The cure was worse than the disease.
Before, I only heard the thunder rumbling; now I saw the flash of lightning. Seeing the sky split in two with that violent light made my hair stand on end. I no longer had to imagine anything; the threat was there, clear and bright. Each flash was a warning that the thunder was coming down the mountain.
Mum's “holy remedy”: Smoke and Faith
Amidst the chaos of my childhood, the image of my mother is etched into my soul. She was the lightning rod of the house. When the storm turned nasty over Cordero, my mum didn't run; she calmly took out an old, blackened pot that she used only for “burning”.
Courtesy of Bing AI and DALL-E 3.
She would put newspaper and the inevitable ‘blessed bouquet’ (those palms that one keeps from Palm Sunday) in it. As the room filled with the smell of burnt palm leaves, she would begin her prayer. It was a sacred monologue, a quiet litany as she cast her blessing. That burnt smell and the murmur of her voice were the only things that counterbalanced the noise outside.
Sometimes, I was already under the bed, trembling. She, with the infinite patience of Andean mothers, would look for me, pull me out of my hiding place and hold me close. In her arms, the fear didn't go away, I won't lie to you, but it became bearable. How I miss her, damn it…
From fear to reverence
As with almost everything, fear recedes when you begin to understand. Over the years, reading and learning how the weather works, I came to understand what it was that terrified me. I understood the physics, the light, the sound. And that childhood panic turned into a deep respect.
By Fernando Flores from Caracas, Venezuela - Catatumbo Lightning | Rayo del Catatumbo, CC BY-SA 2.0.
That respect turned into pure admiration years ago, when I decided I'd had enough and went to see the ‘king of storms’ face to face. I went to the border, to Catatumbo, home to the most impressive phenomenon on the planet.
Standing there, facing that eternal storm, was an almost spiritual experience. There was no bed to hide in anymore. I stood in front of the ‘Catatumbo Lighthouse’ on Lake Maracaibo and literally vibrated with every flash of lightning.
By Scientific Modeling Center - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0.
Today, writing this chronicle for Silver Bloggers and looking back, I realise that the child who trembled in the darkness of Monte Carmelo is still here inside me. But now he knows that after the thunder and the fright, calm always comes... and if you're lucky, a wonderful spectacle.
Hi! Everybody, if you've made it this far, THANK YOU! You are welcome to participate; the link with all the information is below. But I also hope to read your comments in the reply box. Thank you for joining us in these waters of HIVE.
The Silver Bloggers Chronicles #23
Cover of the initiative.
Dedicated to all those writers who contribute, day by day, to making our planet a better world.
Every child is afraid of thunder but I can't imagine how frightening it would be if you couldn't see. That was so interesting in so many ways. I can't imagine living without sight, then having it restored. Incredible story. Thank you for sharing.
As a child, I was afraid of lightning, and even today I sometimes look up at them in the sky with a sense of awe. I especially liked the part where you mentioned the encounter with the King of Storm.Congratulation,great story!
So brave of you to face the storm and vibrate in every lightning. In my case I wouldn't dare😬😁