Blind

The sun hung its head low through the tall poplars, which had lost their color, and only their outlines were visible. From the north, black clouds were gathering, heralding rain. The sky rumbled restlessly, and electrical discharges left bright scars against the dark clouds every now and then. In the west, the sky wept over the earth, quickly, evenly, incessantly, the streaks of rain clearly marked against the sun’s still visible disc. The rain tapped rhythmically on the gray, thirsty earth. The wind rustled softly, and under its pressure, all vegetation bent and seemed to dance to the rhythm of the ever-intensifying storm. The murmur of the wind, the delicate rhythm tapped out by large, fat drops falling on the hard earth, and the sounds of an angry sky createda magnificent, impossible-to-reproduce music, composed by Mother Nature… I stood in the very midst of this miracle, calm, quiet, humble, yearning to die!