The transition is quick. One moment a smattering of silver raindrops The next a torrent of water that obscures the sky. It comes in sheets with the wind: Fierce and violent. Trees attempt a retreat, flailing their limbs in distress. Leaves are gathered up like flotsam And tossed towards the clouds. The Mohave River: A dry sand-course that has been starved by the sun Begins a metamorphosis. A muddy tongue of rainwater Gathered through the rivulets that join the main channel Create a bow wave that crests But cannot fall. It is curls forwards with the force Of rushing water. The rumble of thunder Like the roar of a lioness Becomes a growl of muddy water. The river fills quickly with the assault of rain. Lightning creates yellow geometric patterns That strobe through the night sky. They illuminate a frozen moment of falling water Of twisting trees And a river beginning to flood. Water rises, eating into the river banks And sending them crashing in a wave of debris That sounds like a crumbling building. The river becomes animal A serpent eating everything in its path Devouring unanchored trees And swallowing elephantine logs whole. It rises in less than an hour Taller than the horn-tip of an old Kudu Bull. Everything is saturated with water. And then the storm quietens. Rain petering itself out. The storm retreats. Rushing water left behind. Rumbling.
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ContentSome thoughts about things, sometimes philosophical, sometimes just musings. The world through my eyes... Archives
March 2023
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