spring storms

The air feels heavy... that familiar smell of a spring storm coming in. It is eerily quiet. The branches of the Weeping Birch are still as a dark curtain covers us and filters the sun rays. Even the birds, who have been singing their songs all day, are silent.

Look just over there... something is coming. 

As the branches slowly begin to move, you can feel the first drops of rain fall. Then more and more. The loud boom of thunder echos through the meadow. Rain falls hard and runs swiftly down the street and into the gutter. More thunder... where is the lightning?

And as quickly as it started it is gone, leaving behind the fresh scent of rain on grass. Breath deeply.

The birds return to sing their songs... all is right.