Before The Storm

Just a summer storm. However, it is one of those things that can't truly be captured in words... you just have to experience it for yourself :)

I love the world right before a storm. The exact moment, so fleeting, when the storm is so close that you can smell the rain and pleasure in the air. The wind surges around you, pressing in on all sides and sloughing off the sticky, humid air from the day. I love it when the wind isn't strong enough to bow the trees, but you can feel it cleansing your pores and gently whipping around your hair. When the wind swells up and pounds on you like the waves on a shore, and you can feel the anticipation and the storm just over the horizon. The sky is a colour that has yet to be dubbed a name. The cool swirling, marbled effect of blue and grey, mixing together to create a dark tint in the sky.
Right before a storm, all of the wild animals are making noise. The birds are crying out with harsh, scathing sounds, and in the lake across the field, you can hear the comforting chirrup of the Spring Peepers. Their image forms in your mind's eye; tons of little frogs lining the slightly murky waters of a pond, tall grasses gliding up upon the edge, a floating stick stuck in the middle. These sounds mix with the hums of the wind, and when one is used to the shrieks of nature before a storm, all seems silent.
I can feel the slippery rush of wind against my bare arms; I turn my palms to face outward to face the gales and I can feel it catching, stopped by the flesh between my fingers. I look down and see a healthy glow about me. In the moments before a storm, all colours are enhanced to reflect what nature truly is. The grass is a deeper, richer shade of green. The brown of the bark and dirt is blacker, healthier, and carries a heartier texture about it. Wheat fields across the road are a duller gold, with spots of whiter stalks scattered about. Though the air is light, it seems weighed down with the moisture from the clouds above.
I wait in anticipation, remember the last summer storm. I stood outside being taunted by nature, expecting the first drop to fall any minute now, any minute now, any minute now... until I finally felt the icy pinprick against my arm. The little sensations ran up and down my body, chilling me with surprise as the rain plummeted down against my raw skin, each pore of my body filling with a refreshing, icy sensation until my entire body went numb. My clothes hang loosely around me, being pulled down with the immense weight of the water. My glasses are speckled, making the world around me look crystalized and fragmented, with each image being distorted by a drop of rain. My pink tongue slides out and tastes the water, so pure and clear. It's different than tap water, which seems slimy in my mouth. It's different than well water, which is gritty with minerals and nutrients. Rain water is clean, untouched, the only image of perfection in our manmade world.
I pull myself out of the memory and look at the sky and earth. On the horizon, barely blocked by a row of trees, I can see darker clouds than the ones hovering above my head now. I can see where the rain is already falling on towns in the distance, and I wonder if there are any children like me, who still take such immense pleasure from such a simple beauty. I watch it get closer and closer.
In the exact moments before the rain hits, the world is transformed. Blades of grass and flowers erect themselves to a new height, eager to catch the drops. In the split second before a storm, the earth is completely quiet. The birds cease their crying and even the Spring Peepers are holding their breath in anticipation. The world explodes in colour, each individual blade of grass becoming vibrant and rich and hearty. Even though the sky is dark and shadows are cast upon the ground, everything is brighter in those few seconds. Then comes the impact.
All that colour washes away with the rain, cleansed and ready to start again. The colours fade into dull shades of deep green and grey and blues. Nature is stripped of its beauty and is left naked and defenseless to the rain. If you've ever stood in the rain in the country, without the contamination of lights and cars and busy cityfolk, then you know what I mean. Everything is dulled, but not quite dreary; nature lets its every flaw and sin be carried away with the rains. Watch the rain next time it falls; watch the grass and the earth and the sky, and you see how the earth is replenished each time. Everything is left sparkling and gleaming afterward, with every drop of water glinting in the new sunlight. In the fleeting moments before a storm, the world prepares itself for the end, and after the storm, the world is reborn.

Author's Note

I was just working outside and I realized I was caught in the middle of those fantastic few minutes right before a huge summer storm hits. I tried to describe what it's like out in the country, where there is nothing to interfere with nature's course :)

Reviews

[Zeek4]

That is a wonderful piece of writing Emily; I'm truly impressed. Your teachers must love having you around.