there's nothing like seeing those black clouds roll in.
waiting, sometimes for days, to see if they have enough in them to actually bring the water, or if they're only show.
watching as it slowly makes its way to you:
and then loving every minute of it when the rain does come.
there's something singular about the stillness that falls, muting the light, stifling the sound, magnifying the smell that i identify with grey until that grey is spilling from the sky, scenting the ponderosas with vanilla.
(thanks, melindie, for the pics. they wrote this for me.)
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