before a storm
He says his favorite feeling of all time is not love.
It is not hate or passion.
Lust or fondness.
His favorite feeling is the minutes before a storm,
When the wind picks up and the earth prepares itself for another assault from mother nature.
She’s a vile looking woman, really.
Vines for hair and muddy skin.
Bugs in her teeth.
Roots for feet and lily pads for hands,
There isn’t a thing in nature she cannot stand.
But she adores this boy and how his heart tingles at the sight of dark clouds and humidity rising in the air like hair on a spine.
She plays the trees and rain like pawns, laughing at how his face lights up at the sight of whirlwinds decorating the terrain like tyrannical queens with a tongue for vengeance.
The world is her chess board and he is her king.
She makes the frogs follow his feet and the birds sing.
The boy does not understand the beauty in his excitement,
But she sees him.
She watches him.
She protects him.
Because Mother nature is happiest with those who appreciate her storms just as much as her peace.
PC, IG: @jamesklein_photography