08 May 2012

april showers carry into may.

thunderstorms gathering. the sound of this I love almost as much as the storm itself. clouds rush in. settling as we quicken our steps and dig around in our bags for the umbrella we hope is there. trees rustle. swaying softly at first, but in a moment, forcefully. as though they might topple over if not for roots digging deep into the earth. and then the rain falls. like a bucket spilled over a sieve. not gradually growing, but all at once. with a rush of excitement and a bit of melodrama.

there's just something about everything getting ready. preparing instantly and all at once.

like a symphony right before the start. players enter. settling as we are seated and decide who will take command of the shared armrest. papers rustle. black and white sheets of notes and bars and soaring scores moving into their proper place in the order of things. and then the conductor quiets us all. and the silence before the opening crescendo envelopes us. and then the music is there. not gradually growing, but all at once. with a rush of excitement and a bit of melodrama.

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