罗索·贝克(Russell Baker)
It begins when a feeling of stillness creeps into my consciousness. Everything has suddenly gone quiet. Birds do not chirp. Leaves do not rustle. Insects do not sing.
The air that has been hot all day becomes heavy. It hangs over the trees, presses the heads of the flowers to the ground, sits on my shoulders. With a vague feeling of uneasiness I move to the window. There, in the west, lies the answer — cloud has piled on cloud to form a ridge of mammoth white towers, rearing against blue sky .
Their piercing whiteness is of brief duration .Soon the clouds reveal their darker nature. They impose themselves before the late-afternoon sun, and the day darkens early. Then a gust of wind whips the dust along the road, chill warning of what is to come.
In the house a door shuts with a bang, curtains billow into the room. I rush to close the windows and empty the clothesline . Thunder begins to grumble in the distance.
The first drops of rain are huge. They splat into the dust and imprint the windows with individual signatures . Leaves shudder under their weight before rebounding , and the sidewalk wears a coat of shiny spots .
The rhythm accelerates until the sound is a roll of drums and the individual drops become an army marching over fields and rooftops.Now the first bolt of lightning stabs the earth. It is heaven's exclamation point . The storm is here!
In spite of myself, I jump at the following crack of thunder . It rattles the windowpane and sends the dog scratching to get under the bed. The next bolt is even closer. It raises the hair on the back of my neck, and I take an involuntary step away from the window.
The rain now becomes a torrent, flung capriciously by a rising wind. Together they batter the trees and level the grasses. Water streams off roofs and out of rain spouts. It pounds against the window in such a steady wash that I am sightless. There is only water. How can so much fall so fast? How could the clouds have supported this vast weight? How can the earth endure beneath it?
Pacing through the house from window to window, I am moved to open-mouthed wonder . Look how the lilac bends under the assault, how the day lilies are flattened, how the hillside steps are a new-made waterfall! Now hailstones thump upon the roof. They bounce white against the grass and splash into the puddles. I think of the vegetable garden, the fruit trees, the crops in the fields;but, thankfully, the hailstones are not enough in numbers or size to do real damage. Not this time.
For this storm is already beginning to pass. The tension is released from the atmosphere, the curtains of rain let in more light. The storm has spent most of its energy, and what is left will be expended on the countryside to the east.
I am drawn outside while the rain still falls. All around, there is a cool and welcome feeling. I breathe deeply and watch the sun's rays streak through breaking clouds. One ray catches the drops that form on the edge of the roof, and I am treated to a row of tiny, quivering colors — my private rainbow.
I pick my way through the wet grass, my feet sinking into the saturated soil. The creek in the gully runs bank — full of brown water, but the small lakes and puddles are already disappearing into the earth. Every leaf, brick, shingle and blade of grass is fresh-washed and shining.
Like the land, I am renewed, my spirit cleansed . I feel an infinite peace. For a time I have forgotten the worries and irritations I was nurturing before. They have been washed away by the glories of the storm.
a feeling of stillness 一种平静的感觉
- mammoth [ˈmæməθ] a. 巨大的
rearing against the blue sky 高耸在蓝天之上
- duration [djʊəˈreɪʃn] n. 持续时间，其间
empty the clothesline 收下晾晒的衣服
- imprint [ɪmˈprɪnt] v. 铭记，留下印记
- signature [ˈsɪɡnɪtʃə] n. 签名，署名
- rebound [rɪˈbaʊnd] v. 反弹，弹回
shiny spots 闪闪的水点
- accelerate [əkˈseləreɪt] v. 使加速
- stab [stæb] v. 刺，戳
exclamation point 惊叹号
crack of thunder 一声霹雳
- involuntary [ɪnˈvɒləntərɪ] a. 本能的，非故意的
- capriciously [kəˈprɪʃəslɪ] ad. 变化无常地
open-mouthed wonder 瞠目结舌，惊叹不已
- saturated [ˈsætʃəreɪtɪd] a. 浸透的
- cleanse [klenz] v. 清洁，使净化
起初，我渐渐觉得四周一片寂静。一切都突然静了下来。鸟儿不再啼叫，树叶不再沙沙响，昆虫不再吟唱。
一整天炎热的天气此刻变得很沉闷。这种沉闷感笼罩着树木，压得花儿低头贴地，压在我的肩头。在隐隐的烦躁中，我来到窗前，在西方，我找到了答案——云层层摞起，形成了一列巨大的白塔，在蓝天上高高耸立。
塔的耀眼白光持续的时间不长。不久云层就暴露出黑暗的本性。乌云遮住了傍晚的太阳，天色早早地昏暗下来。接着，风抽打着道路上的滚滚黄土，冷飕飕地警告着暴风雨将至。
房屋里，一扇门砰的一声关上了，窗帘被风吹得哗哗作响。我赶忙过去关窗户，收起挂在晒衣绳上的衣物。远处传来了隆隆雷声。
第一批豆大的雨点，劈劈啪啪打在尘土上，打在窗玻璃上，留下一道道水痕。树叶被雨水打得战栗着，低下又弹起，人行道上溅起了一层闪光的水泡。
暴风雨的声势越来越大了，只听见风雨声一片，如鼓声齐鸣，原先单个的雨点变成了万马奔腾的雨水大军席卷着田野和屋顶。顷刻间，第一道闪电划过大地。它是上天的惊叹号。暴风雨到来了！
听到随后响起的炸雷，我不由自主地吓了一跳。雷声震得窗玻璃叮当响，吓得狗嚓嚓地爬到床底下。接下来一个雷电更近了，嚇得我的脖子上的汗毛都竖了起来，下意识地从窗边退开了。
这时，雨借风势，倾盆而下，肆虐天地之间。狂风暴雨撕打着树木，夷平了草地。水从屋顶上，从落水管中，瀑布般哗哗流下，窗子被打得啪啪响，让雨水冲得什么也看不见，只有水。这么多雨水，下这么快，怎么办得到的呀？重量这么大的雨水云怎么支撑得住呀？大地怎么经受得住呀？
我在屋里踱来踱去，从一个窗口走到另一个窗口，瞠目结舌，惊叹不已。瞧，丁香在暴风雨中弯了腰，萱草给冲得趴在了地上，山坡的台阶上奔泻下新造的瀑布！此刻，冰雹砸在房顶上，砰砰作响，白花花一片，反弹到草地上，溅入水坑中。我想起了菜园、果树，还有田里的庄稼。还好，谢天谢地，雹子不太多，也不太大，不会造成实际的损失，这一次不会。
暴风雨开始收敛了，大气中的沉闷压抑解除了，雨幕中透出了更多的亮光。暴风雨的大部分势头已消失，余威将挥洒在东部的乡野间了。
雨还没有完全止住，我就被吸引到外边，周围多凉爽，感受多怡人呀。我深深地呼吸着，观看太阳的光线穿过散开的云层直射而下。一道阳光落在屋檐边的水珠上，幻化出一排小小的、颤动的五光十色的珠子——一个供我一人看的虹。
我在湿漉漉的草地上走着，双脚陷进被水浸透的泥土。溪谷的小河，棕黄色的水漫到了岸边，但是小池塘和小水坑里的积水已经渐渐退去。每一片树叶、草叶，每一块砖石，都冲洗得清新锃亮。
像大地一样，我得到了新生的感觉，我的心灵荡涤得清清爽爽。我感到无限的宁静安详，暂时忘却了原先的担忧懊丧，都被暴风雨的壮举冲刷得无影无踪了。
罗索·贝克(1925— )，《纽约时报》专栏作家、新闻记者，于1993年当上PBS(公共广播公司)“杰作剧场”主持人，出生于弗吉尼亚州。因为新闻专栏工作获普利策奖，又于1983年因自传体作品《成长》(Growing up ，1982)再获普利策奖。其他作品有《大好时光》(The Good Times ，1989)，《我的地下室中有个国家》(There's a Country in My Cellar ,1991)，《没有理由害怕》(No Cause for Panic ,1960)，《营救雅丝凯尔小姐》(The Rescue of Miss Yaskell ,1990)以及2006年2月第1版《回顾》(Looking Back ,由11篇报道组成)。
贝克的写作风格被誉为朴实优美、幽默睿智，他用这样的笔触讲述了一个单亲家庭中的小男孩在好强母亲的教育下成长成才的故事，因此在美国有“当代的马克·吐温”之称。贝克的职业生涯中，他共出版了17部作品，包括著作和编著。贝克的一生对美国文学和新闻界产生了深远的影响，他的作品和贡献被广泛认可和纪念。