FALL STORM
The sky was blue and the day held a quietude symphony. Suddenly, a gray cloud emerged from the horizon, then yet another, until a quiet line of gray threatened the blue. Faster and faster turbulent clouds rolled in. The trees bowed their colorful heads, the squirrels scampered to their havens, the birds hushed their delightful songs.
Now the sky was grim and quiet. Shades of light faded from the clouds. Leaves began to shower down as gusts of wind broke the silence. Louder and louder came the wind, blowing his angry air over the threshold of the horizon. Branches shook unwillingly.
A clasp of thunder rolled through the trees, almost shaking the life from them. Shattering white streaks lit up the world, then disappeared to make way for more. Hissing rain fell to the earth, pounding the grass down and raising up pools of mud. Everything cravened in the brilliant noise and violence of the storm, waiting for the Monster�s death.
Finally�could it be? It was sunlight. Not a lot, just a fine line of yellowish light. The little light of hope grew to a benevolent blue, and it thrashed the dark gray into little, cowardly puffs, which soon turned into disappearing mists. The Storm was conquered.
Once again, life dissolved into its usual active day, and if one looked just above the edge of the earth, the eyes would rejoice in a kaleidoscopic view�a triumphant rainbow.
Written October 2, 1980
I was walking home from high school and saw a terrible storm coming from the East, thought it would be fun to describe it and personify it.