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It starts out as a sunny day, cloudless, sun-filled. But by the afternoon the clouds descend and let loose their torrent of finger-nail sized water droplets. Creatures run for cover in dens, burrows, bushes, and trees. The plants luxuriate in the midday rain, stretching their leaves out to fully enjoy the weather. The trees enjoy the moisture but keep a weary eye out for the dangerous bolts of lightning that are sure to join the chorus.
The gray clouds mask the sky in a dim light and cause everything to seem sad and dreary, when really the world is thriving at its fullest. The rain is viewed as a bad sign, but why? It’s helping the earth’s living to grow and thrive and nourish the air, leaving a fresh, new scent in the humid surroundings.
The dark clouds reach out a fiery hand to the ground. But the sky is not meant to be one with the earth, and the hand rears back with a mighty yell at the differences between hard ground and soft air. Animals cower in their homes at the resounding crash that echoes through the air, shaking the usually sturdy ground that lies beneath them. The trees shiver and thrash, wishing they weren’t the nearest things to the dangerous bolts. Creatures hiding in the branches and trunks leap from their hazardous hide-outs and run for a new cover.
The wind pushes the thundering rain into the entrances of dens and hide-outs. It whips stray leaves through the air and smaller animals have to hold on tight to whatever they can grab onto. The leaves of the trees and plants are dripping rain water as are the rocks and logs lying on the sodden ground.
The sky tries once more to run its blazing fingers across the wet ground, hoping it might be different this time, but with no luck. It rears back with another ear-shattering cry and pulls its hand back into its gray depths. The sky is persistent though. A small tree sits in the way of the sky’s next attempt to become one with the dirt and grass. Upon touching the small tree, the lighting pulls back in shock as the tree bursts into flames. The other trees scream and thrash and wish they could lift up their roots and run for shelter like the rabbits and the squirrels, the deer and the birds, but they are held firmly in place by their life-lines, the roots, which are perfectly comfortable in their damp, dirt cocoons.
The blazing tree squeals and prays for the rain to put it out, but the lightning’s flames are too strong and the small droplets of water do nothing against the hissing red flames swallowing the tree and licking the ground around it for anything else it can devour.
Finally, the pounding rain does put out the spitting flares that consumed the small tree, leaving behind a thin, black carcass, barely standing. The other trees mourn for the small tree and hope they are not the sky’s next victim.
The sky is angry at the earth now. It pelts the ground with pea-sized balls of ice. The heavy wind blows the hail and rain into anything it can reach and scream’s its banshee-like battle cry into the storm. Another attempt to stroke the frightened earth leaves the sky, once more, reeling back into itself, shaking the ground with its indignant screech.
The hail and rain thunder down on the helpless earth-life and the wind repeats its terrifying wails and howls chilling everything to the core. The sky persistently agitates the earth with its never-ending attempts to pet its wet surface and continues to shake the ground with its angry bellows when once again, its plan fails.
By now, the animals, trees, and plants are all scared silly. More than just the small tree was mauled by the sky and there seems to be no hope of survival for the rest of the living. But suddenly, the hail stops and the clouds pull their electric fingers back up for the last time. They’ve given up, for now. The rain continues to fall for mere minutes, until it finally stops and waves goodbye as the clouds continue on to their next victims.
The sun peeks out from behind a still-retreating cloud and smiles in welcome to its earth-bound children. Animals stick their heads out of their hiding places and stiff around in the air. The trees breathe a sigh of relief and settle back into their familiar positions. The roots go about their business sucking up some of the water that will linger in the earth for a while to come. And all is well again. Until tomorrow, when the storm decides to pay them a visit once again.