Title - 2 PM Mountain Storm
The smell of wet dirt is unmistakable. The wind shifts; a cold swift breeze intrudes through the tent flap. One by one, droplets make their presence known, mixing with the dirt and detritus on the canvas roof.
Thunder, that was a low rumble mere minutes ago, booms in glorious percussion. The dome of the world is just waking up and opening its mouth.
I'm just a small thing, powerless to the clashing extremes overhead.
Puddles swell and homogeneously crawl. The streams pouring unbridled join the chorus of nature's raucous orchestra.
And me, the aforementioned small thing, I watch and I wait. Peace wells up in me with each rumble and crash. This is is right. This is good.
I am here and I am safe.
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Photo credit - https://unsplash.com/photos/green-grass-field-under-gray-clouds-0eyNoa4PblE
#writing #nature #themindspaceseries #journaling
