I love watching a storm come in. Well, as long as I’m not going to be caught in it, that is.
But it’s amazing to see the sky lose all color until it’s a sea of whites to grays to blacks, layers of smudges across the sky. Hear the air grow quiet, the sound muffled, as it seems like all of nature is waiting, waiting for those first drops, for that first crack of thunder.
The air feels different, heavier, full, and then it’s like the clouds are toying with us, leaving us to wonder when. Not yet, not yet, but still they look impossibly heavy, as though the weight of them will crash them right back down to earth.
The light changes, loses itself in the clouds, and everything below looks like an early color photograph when the colors weren’t too sure of themselves.
Then I can see the rain in the distance, blurring everything between me and it, softening the lines. And I know that soon, soon, it will be here too.
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