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An Approaching Storm
As I stand at the top of the hill gazing over the small seaside town below, my attention is drawn to the flash of lightening arching in the distance. I watch with growing fear and amazement at the approaching hurricane. Accompanied by the flash, a delayed crash of thunder echoed through out the sky as if a bomb has been detonated. As the wind gathers speed it push’s the hurricane towards the land, towards my beloved hometown. It look’s like as if the high noon sun and the hurricane are fighting each other for control of the sky. I look around to see how this storm has changed the quiet day of autumn into a rather dark, eerie, miserable day. As the fall leaves whisper quietly along the ground like a little armada marching forth, the scent of the ocean salt collides with the smell of fresh dirt. It provides a rather unique smell not experienced very often. With the meeting of cold ocean air, and the warm dry air of the land, the temperature has dropped and is noticeably colder than usual. The hairs on my arms are agitated and as the storm approaches I am increasingly aware of how it has instilled me with fear.
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