Red Winged Black Bird on a fence post in a field.



Category: prose

The small, brown ground squirrel bounded from beneath the long eared leaves of the grasses around the tree. Its little nose twitched. The creature looked around. The wind tussled its hair and pushed the weeds wildly around it.

The tree stood on the crest of a hill at the edge of the forest. From the ground squirrel’s position, it could see into the nearby meadow. It could also see the sky and the heavy clouds hanging there.

The rodent quickly ran to a nearby clump of grasses and disappeared down a hole.

The wind picked up and the trees swayed. The air temperature dropped. The scent of rain rode in on the wind. The clouds grew darker.

A flash of light crossed the sky. A rumble echoed through the trees. When the thunder passed, all that could be heard was the creaking of the trees and the wind in the leaves.

A bird flew by, buffeted by the strong winds. It wound its way through the air to settle in a nest in a tree. With the gale still pushing against it, the bird pulled its dark gray wings in tight and ducked into the nest.

A drop of rain fell, just a single sprinkle, tumbling out of the sky to land on the jagged-edged leaf of a bush. The impact pushed the leaf down only to spring back up again. The droplet itself splattered to cover a wider circle.

The clouds grew darker. The winds aligned themselves to concentrate their force in one direction. More lightening. More thunder. More raindrops fell from the sky.

The wind grabbed the rain and threw it against anything in its way. Wave after wave of water flew through the sky, crashing on the trees and the weeds. Rivulets ran off the bark of the trees and across the ground seeking out the lowest point to hide from the storm.

Lightening flashed and cracked, shaking the trees, illuminating the meadow like the brightest sunlight. A limb fell slowly from an oak nearby. The broken branch drifted nearly to the ground before the spirits of the wind could catch it and carry it away.

Leaves and small twigs were torn from other trees. The wind dashed them against anything in its path. The jetsam dropped and joined the puddles on the ground.

With a reduction of wind, the rain returned to its usual downward travel. The trees stopped bending at the trunk, though their limbs still drooped with water. The rumble of thunder resounded in the distance.

Slowly, the sky changed from dark gray to light gray. The rain slowed until it was just a trickle. Then, just like it started, the rain ended with a couple of individual drops. It was over.

Birds gave an occasional chirp. Water dripped loudly off the leaves of trees onto the leaves of undergrowth. The puddles started soaking into the ground.

As I looked on in amazement at the majesty of nature I couldn’t help but think, “Damned weathermen!”

Comments (0)
You gotta pick the right guy to do the job.
Go out now and vote for LibertyBob.
True freedom comes from reason.