We Got It All

First came a blind cane tapping, tentative, sporadic, all over. Rain.

Studying the morass of oncoming darkening clouds, I stepped out and waited. Rain drops pecked my cheek, patted my hair, skipped off my arm. I waited.

A wind rushed through the trees like an animal unleashed back to the wilderness and scurried past me. The storm cleared the high distant hills with a ragged announcement of thunder. I waited.

More urgent drops approached They were serious about maintaining a constant dispersal rate and issued warning I was going to get wet. I waited.

The full regiment of rain galloped toward me. Thunder burst loose of its binds. Lightning ripped across the clouds. More thunder chased it with heavy energy. And the rain and wind came with a howling spirit, striking my clothes and skin, posting goosebumps on my flesh.

And I stayed.

It was a classic Pittsburgh thunderstorm.