Storms

Storms have caused such commotion of late that I’ve developed the habit of muttering, “Something wicked this way comes....” whenever I see a dark blanket in the sky threatening encroachment. 

This morning, I had a different experience. I cranked the music of Richard Smallwood with Vision and watched a storm enact. All of a sudden, the situation turned from one of total anxiety to total praise. The elements gave the appearance of being conducted, as if they listened. Trees swayed, clouds wisped, rain shifted, lightning danced. My love of music restored my love of storms. Yes, it was a tempestuous morning. “Something glorious that way goes....”