We stand on the cliffs and watch as the black stormhead rolls over the canopy. Windows are barred, goods lashed down, doors locked and braced. A wave of sticky heat precedes it, knocking the air out of its way and scattering all the animals, big and small. Then the flashes. An ominous grumble. Even the sky cannot escape the encroaching maw. A scattered shower of boiling rain sizzles on the ground. A grey wall rushes over the trees and flattens all it touches. The static noise grows in a moment and then.
Paddy Dobson
May 2nd 2021
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