NORTH CAROLINA STORMS by Derick S.r, Philadelphia, PA I grew up in North Carolina. Often after a long, extremely humid summer day, a powerful thunderstorm was routine. You could tell by the color. The air turned dark green. My limited scientific knowledge tells me that the air was not really green, but it looked that way. Of course, the ominous clouds overhead made things looked darker. But things did not just get darker, they got greener. It was like looking through green-colored glasses. Just as you can almost see total darkness, you would see this deep, thick green. This was the trademark of approaching storms. The season, time of day and color were always the same.
As the phenomenon of green increased, so did the cool wind. The storm used its wind to evaporate the sweat left from the humid afternoon. After a day of playing, working and enduring, nothing was more welcome than a refreshing sharp wind. Sadly, this pleasure had to be enjoyed quickly.
The piercing rain and high winds always began together. Thunder and lightning soon followed. The television was replaced by any window. It was exciting to watch such an awesome display of power. Marble-sized raindrops were manipulated by gravity and wind. They bombarded everything relentlessly. Every pine tree bent in unison. The thunder and lightning dominated your ears and your mind.
As the storm receded, darkness fell. The storm and the afternoon were over.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.