Spring Storm

The last shaft of sunlight is swallowed whole by threatening dark clouds now filling the sky. White hot flashes of lightning pierce the darkness on their jagged path to ground; their strikes too distant for the well delayed thunder to be heard above the excited chattering of birds seeking shelter from the fury of a storm, they instinctively sense is on its way.

Then, the oppressive afternoon heat and still air are replaced with a sudden, cooling wind that blows hard across the land; rustling and turning leaves to expose their pale undersides. The wind grows gusty, creating fast flowing waves in a field of golden winter wheat, while raising whitecaps that ripple over the once placid surface of a nearby lake.

A young woman rushes to rescue her wash now blowing straight out from her clothesline. Others hurry closing open windows and doors to bar entry of the coming deluge. Invisible in lawns and meadows, raindrops produce small craters in the dry soil of flower beds, and dot the pavement and walkways with widely scattered spots of darker wetness.

Windshield wipers, set at low speed, slowly sweep first from one side, then to the other; clearing the glass of dust and pollen that gathered during a dry spell. In quick succession two more lightning strikes seem to split a giant rip in the clouds, that suddenly releases a torrent of water which threatens to engulf and flood the earth.

Water flows from roof tops, downspouts and hilltops to the valley below; filling gullies, creeks, streams and rivers with the overflow not absorbed by the land.

Sheets of rain are swept in pulses by fierce wind gusts, creating vertical waves in the cloudburst. Umbrellas are turned inside out as the wind gusts seem to come from everywhere at once.

Headlamps on cars and lamps in homes are switched on to chase the growing darkness. Trees strain against their roots in an effort to stay erect in the now gale force winds. A powerful lightning bolt strikes the top of a mighty oak creating an instant, loud crack, and splits its trunk in half as if cleaved with an unseen, giant woodsman’s axe.

The halves hang motionless for an instant, as if too startled at being separated to realize they were about to fall. No longer able to resist, the massive halves pick up speed as they crash through wires strung between poles. As the power lines are pulled apart, they arc with a deep throated buzzing sound and writhe as if alive.

An entire section of homes is instantly plunged into mid-day’s twilight like darkness. From one curb to the other the tree blocks all passage on the street. The snakelike power line suddenly whips against the fallen tree branches becoming trapped. Like a welder’s torch, the arcing line throws sparks as it burns its way through the asphalt.

Then, just as suddenly as the storm arose and wreaked its havoc, it was over. Streets still ran with water as the drains were too full for the runoff, and a fine mist hung in the cool air. In the distance the trailing edge of the sharply defined storm front could be seen. Beyond that is a crystal clear, azure blue sky free of any sign of clouds.

Shafts of sunlight break through the remaining gray skies

and clouds moving rapidly overhead.  In the distance, the

white sunlight is reflected and refracted from the tiny floating droplets of mist. Acting as prisms, the droplets create a giant, arching rainbow that touches the earth at its ends. How many think of searching for the pot of gold at rainbow’s end?