Birth and Afterbirth

The sky is streaked with lightening. Streaks that go from earth to sky in electric blue or red or white. They look almost like trees planted upside down with their roots attached to the clouds and their branches reaching to the earth. A single sturdy trunk with various branches stemming out to touch anything that conducts electricity. The lightening arches between clouds like the clouds are being welded together into one. As the lightening flickers out, the roll of thunder follows. As the storm moves closer, the time between the light on the sound grows smaller until the storm is over top and light and sound combine into one blinding and deafening show. The rain adds to the noise. Beginning with a light patter that grows stronger and louder. The wind carries the rain causing spits and starts, rain falling in translucent veils, energized by the lights above and the reflection of windows from below. Torrents, a flood, swirls of water in the street causing hydroplaning and treacherous driving conditions. Rain, making bubbles in puddles that foreshadow even heavier downfalls. The noise is almost unbearable. The light leaves motes of darkness in its wake. carrying on and on, windows rattling and being beaten by waterfalls. The electricity of the arches can be felt in your core. The wind causes even the sturdiest house to sway. Yet, in 20 minutes, the rain subsides, the thunder becomes a mumbled growl, the lighting never leaves the clouds. The sky becomes less ominous, and the greens in the trees and the grass become so vibrant. Water drips of the eaves of the house and the branches of trees like delicate dewdrops, crystals, beautiful. The sun breaks through causing everything to glisten as if new and freshly born. Light reflects off every object, every flower, mailbox, street sign, and gutter. Certainly these after-effects cannot possibly be the creation of such a violent affair as a thunderstorm.