Summer Storm Survey

I am watching a storm roll in. The black clouds look distant, and yet close enough to touch if I stand outside and reach up. Thick and billowy, like plumes of heavy smoke frozen on the sky halfway between tree and atmosphere of space. The wind comes in waves, like rushes of crowds gathering, swooping by with a palpable anticipation. Thunder follows the crowd of winds with a clash of noise and then suddenly all is hushed and still.

But only for a moment. In a flash the trees animate as the winds get under their branches with a jolt. 

Sometimes I cannot tell if it's going to rain. We are caught in between the deep breath before the plunge. The anticipation grows. The storm is hanging aloft, yet it is moving. The thunder grows in sound and frequency, announcing itself. 

I am at my desk to survey the matter. A citizen keen to observe and let the atmosphere brandish all kinds of images and words to tuck away for some use. No good words go to waste with me. I will welcome them and let my afternoon spin with them as they swirl in the air. I will test the words a bit as the words test me in my evaluation study.

One cannot get close to words without learning some of their secrets, while you reveal some of your own to them. It all might emerge later as some complex tale of intrigue and mystery. Indeed, that would be worth your time to pursue.

I am still waiting for the rain to break through, but the thunder strides on.