Storm

Dark clouds slide quickly across the sea, turning the water dark and menacing as the last sparkles of sunlight twinkle out.

Wind gusts, suddenly chill, up the rocky cliff, heralding the oncoming storm. Gulls and corvids ride the turbulence, wheeling overhead, delighting in the updrafts. Are their harsh cries a warning of what is to come?

The wind drops to an unnatural calm.

Rain arrives, sudden and hard. Like icy spears it strikes the skin and pierces right to the soul. Like a curtain drawn across the world, the rain blocks all from view. All sound but that of the thundering rain is erased.

Where are the birds now? Have they sought shelter, or do they fly above the tempest?

The wind turns the rain sideways. Skin so numb with cold, the torrents of water are barely registered. Rivulets snake away towards the cliff edge, throwing themselves over in cascades.

Suddenly the rain eases, the dark clouds part. Sunbeams sweep across the ocean turning it to beaten silver, casting the coast in dark relief. The light slides over the cliff, over the sodden ground to gaze briefly on an upturned face, shining with rain.

It hurries searchingly on across the landscape. The clouds begin to close behind it. The lightly falling rain sparkles in the sun's memory. The cries of gulls fill the air.

The storm is passing.