Once Upon a Storm Front

The bay grew still with awe, or, perhaps anticipation, of the approaching thunderhead. The massive wall of silvery vapor looked down and smiled. Lightning claws testing their steps, followed closely by the bass roll of laughter as the audience assembled. Sound check complete the rhythm began, of drop from above touching drop from below. The performance commenced, the waves thrashing about. Crescendo, peak, decrescendo, no need to linger, the party moved on. The land left cleansed, in awe itself though refreshed, sometimes a moment is all you need. Oh it rained again, a bit of washing up. When the sky cleans house, it turns up the volume and rocks.