|(artwork by ChaoticArtAngel)|
The wind and I go back a long way.
In my younger years I would stay outside as long as I could before a storm. As I felt the wind pick up speed, saw the dark clouds roll in and the trees swaying, I felt a sense of freedom and power. Sometimes the wind would almost push me along. Other times I would run into it feeling it rush across my face and lift my hair. It was a wonderful feeling to stand there or slowly wander around the yard, twirling with my arms outstretched, as the wind grew stronger.
I loved it.
Growing up in Jacksonville, Florida, we experienced pretty warm weather, especially in the summer. When a storm came up, which it often did very quickly, the touch of the wind and then the rain provided some relief. But, just as quickly, the storm would subside. The sun would come out again, and as the street dried, you could see the steam rise. There was so much humidity the air...
You can read the rest where I am guest posting at Cara Strickland's as a part of her de(tales) series.