Ah. what a magnificent afternoon today.
In thunder, lightning and in rain. The sky grew dark, as if the sun had decided to set earlier than usual. but maybe not, because it went from white to ashen grew, skipping past the pale blue, the warm yellow and the fiery red. The air turned as if the vortex in a cooking pot. moist, dripping wet, stiffling calm. the quick coolness brought by the sudden absence of sunrays which we've been accustomed to in the recent days. the temperature line, against most logic, fell past the meticulous measurements of the meteorologists. it was a gentle warning, short too. as the light wind stirred up the crisp leaves, enough was enough and it came. screaming downwards, on a deadly path it was destined to follow to it's painful end. like the blanket bombing runs of World War II, like the command of release given to the ranks of Elven archers, the projectiles struck down from the heights, unavoidable, unstoppable. The crash landings sounded off with the harsh knock of impact, matter fragmenting into fractions. the rubble of projectiles piled on one after another, building up a layer on the warground. the trees shuddered under the assault, weaker leaves being shredded apart to their graves. the vehicles, made of fire-wrought metal, held fast, the drops bouncing off the surface unrelentlessly, a blurry hue appeared to surround them. before long the ground were a watery layer, sinking under the aerial flooding. the greyness in the distance faded to whiteness as the roar crescendoed. whiteness made up for in opacity what it lost in transparency. soon what was left were only the closest trees, the few parked cars, and the submerged asphalt. the ocean boiled from the splashes, each drop creating another depression, rebounce, ripple. the ends of the ocean fleeing into crevices and drains, cascading into larger rivers rushing away. the swift raindrops, with such excellent speed, seemed more like grey lines rather than single drops in movement. all this while the heavens sounded like a disco ball, lightning flashes went past every minute, with the rumbling thunder not far behind. various kinds of lightning and various kinds of thunder came. there were the resounding claps, the prolonged roars, the sharp booms, the low purrs and the swift whips. the astounding way in which the lightning thunder kept up forever, in the amazing rain. all the fury, the depression, the angst, the sadness, the hurt, the blame, the despair, the bewilderment, the confusion. all the raw feelings blended into a Frappuccino. as i stood in awe, leaning back against the wall, sheltered by a slight overhang and the fortunate direction of the opposite slanting rain. the endless sounds were almost that of a large waterfall, with the background roar and the varying accessories. the endless splashing and pouring of a limitless volume of water. the noise echoing within the walls of water. it was, beauty in violence. it was a long time which i stood there, long enough to watch the wind change direction, as the patterns on the ocean altered their movement, as the strong spray reached over to my shoes, wet them, and moved up to my pants. i went back in thereafter. i wanted so much to step out and dance in the rain, in celebration.
the storm ended almost as hastily as it arrived. the lightning and thunder ceased, the water slackened, and the sky cleared. it came, did all it did in as little time as possible, and left.
