Dark skies, howling winds. The bottom of the clouds are going to drop on this worm summer evening. If I could see the sun it would be setting. The corn stocks in rows swaying like solders anxious for battle. Standing tall over my head, their leaves dance in the wind. Moisture is thick in the air, thunder roles over head. A singel raindrop falls on my check then the clods let it all go. It's like looking threw fog. Only seconds ago I was dry, now it's like I jumped in the river. Now standing alone in the corn filld looking up at the dark clouds.