Ricci Schwarzler – Wind

Down the hill to the back of beyond or is it the front of beyond? Who knows? There were dark clouds gathering. They always did on a hot summer afternoon. They gathered, called in all their friends… little clouds, big clouds, high ones and low ones, until they filled the sky at the back, or front, of beyond.

The air was still and the birds were eerily silent. The clouds were working on the colour. Greyer, and greyer, darker, blacker, and then the inevitable green shade. The portents of hail.

 The breeze joined in with the gathering, but only ever so slightly. It was just a wisp. But not wanting to be outdone by the clouds it soon developed into a zephyr.

I gazed out from the top of my hill. The dark clouds took the blue from the light. Leaving everything brighter and deeper. More vibrant. I don’t like the blue. I wish it would stay away. Everything looks so much better without it. The clouds know it, the trees, the lake, and even ‘blue’ knows it. It’s just not needed. But without wanting it to feel bad I won’t dwell on the brilliance of vibrancy when ‘blue’ is not around.

The zephyr turns into a wind, then a gale. It pushes all the leaves and twigs from the trees towards me. I’m now running for cover, but I don’t want to leave the amazing grey brilliance.

I hide behind a tree and peek out. I feel so alive! The clouds are happy and angry. They move fast, excited and banging into each other. What a hoot! Then obviously one of them bangs too hard and someone is hurt. CRACK goes the lightning and then in return as if in annoyance, the thunder rumbles.

Bloody hell that’s a bit close! Do I run or do I stay? I stay. Nature will look after me. They say the smaller the gap of the lightning and thunder, then the closer it is to you.

CRACK BANG!

Too close.