Joyful Reaper

By Joyful

Crowned Thunderhead

Just before the storm broke over the city I stood on the roof at work with the wind blowing in forty seven different directions, the lightning stiching the clouds together, the thunder vibrating the bones of the building, and the temperature dropping 3 degrees a minute to take this. I pushed the shutter button and almost ran to the opening to get inside and beat the malstrum.

. . It lasted two minutes. . .
. . . .
Afterwards the humidity was gone, the puddles disapeared, and a gentle breeze dappled the sunlight on the benches where people sometimes go to have an outside lunch. Incredable!

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