Wednesday, 8 July 2015

Storm clouds

I love this place. It's just a short walk from home, but it's so quiet, it's my respite from a busy, noisy world. My place to recharge my batteries.

I sit upon the top of the hill, looking out at the view. In the distance I see dark, heavy storm clouds growing. They are brooding, hinting at their inner power.

The wind begins to rise, it's warm tendrils playing and teasing my hair. I turn my head towards it, revelling in it's coolness after the heat of the Summer afternoon.

I hear the first distant rumble, answered a few seconds later by another, louder crash. Then the sky is rent by the electric blue dart of lightening.

I feel the first light pattering of rain upon my face.

The storm grows, drawing ever closer. The thunder rumbling like a bad tempered lion. I sit and watch. I love to watch storms, but this one is growing into a prowling monster. It's strength builds by the minute.

I feel a harsh, icy sting, then another and another. Hailstones!

I decide that I have stayed long enough and turn to run towards the sanctuary of home.

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