Summertime

There was a most un-tranquil storm today. It was so exciting that I felt compelled to grab my diary and write about it. Seeing and hearing a storm is like having a tantrum - except someone else is doing it for you, and you can sit there and agree, silently.

....

IT happened quickly, this change. Ten minutes ago there was a vast sky that stretched out, on and on with no clouds. The blue shone, the sun brightened everything and bathed the earth in warmth. Curling leaves on the hydrangea bushes radiated a golden glow and the azure above them spoke of possibility. Music coming from the piano danced with the sunlight around the little room, in tune with the day.

Then a shadow fell across the book sitting open on the piano stand. Suddenly the warm light left the room, disappeared. An inky cloud that had amassed from the north suffocated the sun and swelled, spreading outwards. A smoky gray blanket draped itself over the azure brilliance - and spat. Wet splotches were first visible on the neighbour's roof, like polka dots, black splashes on the sloping lines. White pellets fell among the droplets, bouncing on the hydrangea leaves then finding a place on the gravel path. A roar shook the sky, starting with a low, ominous growl then becoming more angry, dropping bigger specks of white that started to crash on the resisting aluminum.

Too soon it was over. A cloud, dazzlingly white against it's contrasting backdrop, moved cautiously across the dark sky. The light caught on the leaves and in the room, defining shapes with a hard brilliance.

....

Anyone else out there with a thing for storms?