Candles, the air had been pregnant with moisture for day's and now eairily the air felt dry, like the moisture had fled, retreated into the soft underbelly of the clouds. Now we sat in the dark, surrounded by candles and flashlights held up to our faces in jest. I don't know when the last time was that we all sat around on the living room floor in the dark, with the TV off. The mood is forcefully light, though we are all a bit nervous, for the winds are howling around us, you can hear the banging of the screen door, the crashing of the things left outside, left in haste. Then the rain starts, it comes in sheets, pouring out, lashing out. Then the angry sound of hail and we open the door to stare out in amazement and smell the scent of wet earth and perhaps nitrogen released from the lightening and thunder hitting the ground. Venturing out into the storm we somehow each need to feel the wildness a bit, the hail beats down and we try to catch it. Drenched, we all decide to get back in the house. A window shatters upstairs and the sound of branches hitting the house reverberates throughout. Running upstairs we find that the great old chinese elm tree that grew about 50 feet away had fallen on top of the house. My bed is ruined for the night...
That's as far as I have gotten...
