the wind howls as the sky flashes with jagged streaks of angry lightning

the trees are bent nearly to breaking, incapable of fighting the tumultuous storm

leaves fly like projectiles of destruction, as fat cold drops pummel the ground

the clouds fight amongst each other, a mass of ill intent coalescing above

the earth shakes with every angry roar, flinch away from every perilous strike

snapping branches dance along the gale force winds in a subtle harmony with flower petals

one man sits on soaked wooden bench, immune to the fury of nature, in love with spectacle