rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Storm in Spring

Awakened by thunder which boomed up the ridge and faded into forest and canyon. Then, there was hail clattering against the windows and rustling the young leaves with a sound like someone thumbing through the pages of an old book. All afternoon, the clouds drifted, opening brief windows for the sun. Mere pavements dazzled the eye for a moment, then returned to blurry gray mirrors. Evening brought patches of stars, and the moon opened its own small circle in the thin, trailing clouds -- around it, a wheel of color; between the wheel and the shell-white gibbous moon, a patch of day-blue sky. From somewhere above the woods to the west, I heard a flock of birds making small, high-pitched calls, like the mewings of kittens. The air is now chilled, and scented with damp earth and fresh vegetation. I let a bit of it trickle in through my barely open window. Mmmm. Spring rain.

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