Storms

I had left the window open. The light catcher charms my mother made for me violent swung against the glass. Rain sputtered into the kitchen. I ran over and latched it shut. The trees bent in submission to the wind.

Much like the sky is bluer, the storm clouds are darker and more ominous in Colorado. The wind carried the darkness over the house. The mountains which are so clear from our deck were gone. The light hid them, so you couldn’t tell where they started and the storm clouds began.

But as quick as it came, the bright blue punched through the mass. The mountains fought to reappear, and the cloud retreated to the east. Within minutes, the storm's only tracks were the wet road.

I love watching storms roll in, and then slowly dissipate. But here, if you blink, you miss it.