There are few things in nature that I enjoy more than watching a storm roll in (especially when we have suffered through weeks of triple digit temperatures and miserably high humidity!)
No matter what I am doing, I try to stop for a minute and sit in the sunroom or outside on the patio- cup of coffee in hand- just watch the wind blow, the birds and squirrels scurry, the raindrops fall…
An awful tempest mashed the air,
The clouds were gaunt and few;
A black, as of a spectre’s cloak,
Hid heaven and earth from view.
The creatures chuckled on the roofs
And whistled in the air,
And shook their fists and gnashed their teeth.
And swung their frenzied hair.
The morning lit, the birds arose;
The monster’s faded eyes
Turned slowly to his native coast,
And peace was Paradise!
Emily Dickinson, Nature, Poem 21:A Tempest