Beneath the grey I wait,
seagulls scream at the coming fury
in attempt to shake it's resolve.
Wind rises, then stutters
as heavy stillness overcomes.
Silence now, as windows close
and the earth holds it's breath.
A single drop, heavy, crystalline,
leads the crescendo
as the Symphony begins.
I have a need to be outside and feel the storm, it's never good enough to stay warm and dry while watching through a window. It's such a beautiful feeling.