Rain - Stellamara's "Prituri Se Planinata" (Marin Hasse)

The evening sky is already darker than it should be at this hour.

They said it would be.

I sit in my favorite chair by the large window front.

Where I would always be.

The clouds get darker and soon the first droplets stain the glass.

They said it would rain.

The drops slide down the glass as more follow after their kind.

They look like tears.

Wind picks up, rustling the leaves of the trees downstairs.

What would it feel like to be outside right now?

Soon some leaves dance around the air, ripped out of their homes.

They said a storm was coming.

I look forward to the chaos that is about to come.

 

Wind and rain begin to mix, raindrops and leaves dancing with each other.

They look like fighting lovers,

Stronger gusts of wind blow through the streets now, the raindrops remain sparse but prominent.

Which side will win?

Humanity’s waste joins mother nature’s gift, staying afloat in the air despite the heavy drops.

They didn’t call it a storm for no reason.

The wind presses aggressively against the glass, haunting howls echo through the apartment.

What would it feel like to be inside a hurricane?

This is more captivating than the book in my lap I wanted to read.

What was the book about again?

For a moment everything stops, as if someone pressed pause on a remote control.

The calm before the storm, maybe my promised chaos will finally arrive.

There it is.

The sky lights up, illuminated by electrifying streaks pulsing through the night.

For a moment life is bright.

Thunder immediately follows after its companion, rippling loudly through the night air.

It must be so close now, almost right above us.

The deep rumbling continues for a moment, I can almost feel its vibrations within my bones.

Why was something so dangerous so calming?

The breathtaking performance lighting and thunder generously offered repeated itself for a while.

I have always loved thunderstorms.

Storm, raindrops, thunder and lightning; mother nature is giving it all tonight.

They said it would be chaotic.

The chaos outside goes on for quite a while, all I can do is stare in admiration.

Chaos does not always have to be destructive.

Funny how what scared me as a child now calms my soul.

 

I remember the book in my hands, my fingers begin to skim through the pages again.

I have to finish this until Wednesday for my course.

My mind is captured in a conflict; go back to work or enjoy mother nature’s show?

No, work is important. But the chaos is so mesmerizing.

The storm subsides for a moment, I can still hear the rain, before light and sound take over again.

They said it was going to be a long night.

I get lost in the turmoil again, my imagination leads me to the now invisible mountain on the horizon.

How would mother nature’s chaos look from over there?

On a sunny day, the outlines of the mountain let it appear huge despite the far distance.

What would it feel like to stand on the top right now?