Tuesday, April 21, 2015

The Thunderstorms Bring Spring

The earth trembles and the sky shatters. The thunder falls with a crack so packed with power it is felt in walls and floors and ground. The lightening splits and careens with the electricity of life and the speed to illuminate the world.

The rolling tremors wake the trees. Starting in their very roots, shaking the heavy sleepers. Groggy and chilled and wanting to stay tucked in their moss blankets until summer, they finally stir and put out buds.

The flashes, haphazard and purple, help the colors with their return migration, drooping the greens on the grass, the yellow on the daffodils, and leaving the blues in the heavens to be reflected by ponds and lakes and puddles everywhere.

The storm passes, and the creatures rush in. They hadn't intended on returning yet, but they had to check the damage and protect their homes from further threats.

The squirrels are responsible for ensuring the security of each individual limb, and they are not the sort of creature to shirk responsibility.

The rabbits check the ground, searching for unsafe flooding, swamped plants and the like. They dart into and between the bushes to survey the hidden branches and inspect the critters.

And the birds? They are the harolds, the messengers, to let the rest of the critters know what is safe and unsafe, and that, once again, the thunderstorm brought spring, dropping color like rain and breathing warm sighs of relief.

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