Sunday 6 July 2014

Fallings of the year.

One hour before the storm broke destroying everything that tried to resist, Jenny was in the garden.

She noticed the clouds first of all, huge clods of white waves massing in the east and as she watched in awe they seemed to pulsate, firstly grey and then black.

She decided to light the fires then, rain would certainly prevent her from doing so later and she also considered it prudent to take the washing down from the line, it was dry anyway.

That was when she noticed the wind.

She could lean into it and although she was not heavy she was amazed that the wind held her. The branches of the trees behind her rattled and waved. They seemed to be applauding her bravery and then they started to crash to the ground around her, unable to stay serene and drove her into the shelter of the house.

The dried leaves of winter last stung the bare skin of her arms as she hurried home through the afternoon that was becoming evening with every step.

And then suddenly the wind stopped and she did too.

Looking around everything was peaceful, except the sky where rage and beauty jostled for position.

Then she felt the first drop of rain and looked at her arm where it had landed - a small pool of water, alien and pure. With her tongue she softly transferred it to her mouth, tasting the clouds as she did so.

As if this was the sign the sky sighed and the rain fell in an uncontrolled gush, drenching he. Her skirt clung to her legs and her hair clung to her neck as if they were seeking shelter within her.

She turned her face upwards, perhaps looking for the source of all things and rejoiced in the falling.

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