There's a calm that usually foreshadows a storm, and there's a calm that usually follows after.

In one, the world seems to hold its breath like a deviant child about to recieve a spanking.

The drawn out pause is the short eternity where the cane is raised in the parental hand, and the child squinches his eyes shut.....

And the lashing rain ensues.

Merciless.

Omnipresent.

Penetrating.

Cleansing.

Then there is the calm after.

The world breaths a sigh of relief. A respite.

The mud, dirt and grime trickle away...

And in the calm, the leaves seem to lift themselves higher, to turn their face to the sun.

The world straightens its shoulders and carries on.