The light outside is an light green, filtered in that special way that speaks loudly of ominous weather before the thunder arrives. A darker sky descends low, sky boils upside down, brown against tan, seething in beautiful patterns. The first flash of lightning sears a tracing of light into my vision. A searing crackle follows, so close, and the following heavy thunders shakes the windows and walls. I can feel it resonate in my head and through my body. The fierce onslaught continues and I back away from the windows. As the thunder eases, a rat-ta-tat-tat begins on the roof. Hailstones the size of marbles and larger pour like curtains of ice from the sky. The ground looks like it is covered with winter snow.
The pounding hail eases only to be replace by a deluge of rain so thick that I cannot see the other side of the street. Small rivers form quickly and carry away the hail. The street drains are unable to handle the huge volume of water and they back up. The intersections become small lakes. Drivers crazy enough to be out and about move with trepidation as the water comes up almost to the tops of their wheel wells.
As suddenly as it came, the rain vanishes. I step outside and find a large green mass of leaves at the end of a heavy fallen branch that crosses the sidewalk. It occurs to me that it is resting exactly where I parked my car. Looking closing I can see a little bit of the orange hood peeking out from under the leaves.
I turn and scan the whole horizon. In every direction I look I see forked lighting brushing against the silhouettes of houses in the distance. The faint rumbles of thunder vibrate the air.
To the west I see beams of sunlight filtering through the clouds at the back of the storm. Before long, the sky above me is blue and clear. The ground steams as the sun returns.
