The sudden roaring of oceanic winds so violent the ornaments shiver. I go to the window, the fallen leaves swirl as if caught in an invisible tornado before scattering across the lawn in a flurry of orange, yellow and red. Maybe nature’s angry. Or maybe she just wants your attention. I mean just look at what she can do. Perhaps the sky is grey to make the leaves easier to see – have you ever thought about that?
Later on, rain drums on the windowsill as I lie in bed. Counting sheep never works, but there’s something therapeutic about rain and wind in unison. I’d go to the window again, but I’m wrapped up, nodding off. I can only imagine her beautiful chaos.
The morning after, there’s a stillness as I leave the house – a humidity like rising anger. Within minutes, the clouds begin to spit and the breeze picks up. The leaves fly for me, as if charging to attack. I put up my umbrella, but the rain’s coming from every direction possible, travelling on dancing winds. The flamenco – yeah, that seems like an angry dance. Nature has no mercy for me this morning. I arrive at my destination, soaked and miserable. Hmm… I guess she really likes to show off.