Wednesday, April 9, 2014
the flutter of a hummingbird's wing
It's been seven years since I lived where storms visit frequently. Two years spent in the arid mountain desert where I had only experienced on small clap of thundersnow and five in the heart of Texas, where the drought is prominent and storms are few and far between. But when it is decided that a storm must blow through-it is quick and powerful. And it puts me on edge. I no longer like the rumbles of distant thunder or the sharp crack of an angry cloud. I must admit, it scares me a little.
This storm flew in like the flutter of a hummingbird's wing. Quick and powerful, the sky turned from fair to menacing in mere moments. The winds swept in on a black and blue sky. With the flash of lightning and the rolls of thunder the storm pushed through quickly and furiously. It was just on the cusp of sunset when the sky turned sepia, then mauve; and then a rainbow followed. It was faint and large, bowing over a dusky rose curtain. To the west the sun had turned in for the day, saying goodbye to the heavy, gray clouds and leaving us with a spectacular sunset.