Listening: "Jackie's Strength" Tori Amos
Mentally Replaying: this morning
Enjoying: a fine crisp morning

The storm came suddenly, a fine desert storm. There was some prognositication but we're used to hearing "50% chance of rain" as "it's highly unlikely that it will rain, but you never know."

We put everything away in anticipation as the clouds rolled down over the San Gabriels and our daylight was swallowed whole. Disagreements, the mess in the kitchen, unpaid bills: they were all balled up together and shoved into a cupboard to be dealt with later. There was a storm on and there was no time or space in mind to deal with our mundanities.

It came through and electrified our night. It made us grin even as we frowned at the lack of friction between our tires and the road. It brought frozen water and it filled the gutters to overflowing. It made us stand at the windows like sentinels and simply admire the view.

And then it was gone. Having sucked every ounce of heat and washed all the particulate matter that kept us warm from the air, the night was kept chilly and even the stray cats huddled together.

This morning we pulled out our issues from the high shelves and cabinets we had put them in:
A man with arms folded tightly around himself caught forty winks while leaning on a bus stop pole; a child ran away from his mother with only one shoe on, howling against the indignity of school; a woman was curled up in a passenger seat of her booted car, she hid her tears from a man and two small boys who waited patiently outside the car.

Traffic started up hesitantly this morning but quickly got into full steam. The sun dried up the roads quickly and is happily streaming down light that is not diluted by pollutants or clouds. The air is sharp and clear and burns the last 18 hours into my memory.