As a multitude of oddly shaped dark grey clouds roll through and unite, losing their individual identies, and creatiing a formidable creation in the skies above. Blocking the last splotches of what was a semi blue sky. I sit, listen and watch as the breeze shifts direction.
The dark green leaves on the trees dance as the wind moves them from side to side. They dance to a rhythm no one can hear, but a rhythm only they can feel. The thick foliage moves as one, such as a professional dance team move across a stage.
As the pitter patter from the first few drops of rain plip and plop against the tin roof over the deck, slowly purting me at ease, for as I look into the distance, i know there is more to come. So much more.
Once more the wind changes direction, it eases off to a very soft breeze. And then it happens. The dark angry clouds open up. They yell. They scream. They roar as the flood gates from heaven open up. Sending down fat, and heavy blobs onto the tin roof.
The pitter patter gone, replaced with the sounds of a hundred horses galloping across the roof. Leaving their marks with every hoof beat as I sit and listen.
Heavy drops fall and bounce, and roll on the roof, sliding into the galvanised gutteting, flowing into the downpipe and whisked away.
The grass greedily soaks up evey drop of fluid, letting it seep deep past its roots and into the hard dry earth below.
As my coffee sits and goes cold. I feel comfortable in my home settings. Waiting for the storm to pass.
This is Australia. The lucky country.
FantomWriter 