Starving Artist Ink.

my side of the country is under water. i secretly love it (only because  there is no chance of water flooding through my front door… er.. sorry to those that have living room pools..)

i guess i’m weird, but my thought is- it isn’t JUST rain.. normal blah drizzle.. it’s SOMETHING.

like when it snows and it doesn’t stick? well that isn’t exciting- not in the least.

it has to snow and snow and close schools…

maybe it’s perverse- secretly loving natural disasters. i know that plenty of people are frightened by it- and they have every right to. it’s dangerous. people are losing so much, their homes, er… sometimes more. oh god. this sounds so bad of me doesn’t it?!

there’s just something thrilling about it to me.

the smell in the air when a tornado is about to pull down from the sky… the way the air splits during a lightning storm…

the silence that settles during an ice storm. everything pristine. preserved. stuck under thick layers of ice.

the magic of fresh snow, glistening in the sun. untouched and perfect.

and then snowploughs come in and dirty the snow, fire fighters come in and pump out the water.

all for the better, i know.

but it takes the excitement away.

the ice melts and leaves the dead grass muddy.

and everything goes back to normal.