The Wild in Me Past the glitzy theatre I walk, leaving Hollywood endings and epics behind. Now I’m leaning into the epicenter of wildness at the usually sedate beach, as a combine of thunder rolls across this aquatic field. Bring on the battering rain, the scream of unharnessed waves. Bring on the crazy behemoth of a storm brooding over the lake. Another thrill seeker is ripping through blasts of water with a small board attached to his feet. He explodes over each swell into the air with his sail billowing objections then rising to the challenge. He is a million miles from the tired boardwalk sinking, only an hour ago, into the sand beneath the chronic strain of Sunday strollers. Me, I’m wild with delight. Breathless, we are swerving along the edge of this massive frenzy of lake. The thunder is a sinister clap in the fear fraught sky, a glint in my eye as I walk to my car, rain-soaked and cackling, dumb luck that the lightening didn’t strike. Instead I’m possessed with alive.