when you give me that thunder you make my summer rain
every day
and it won't stop
The smell of it lingered in the air. Breathing it in deeply until it felt as though his chest could burst, the realized just how much he missed it. At one time, he could relate its dewy redolence with flood, and by the same token death, but now, after a long winter...Now it connoted life.
High in the western sky reigned a fading orange sun, and even though pluming pillars of inky clouds were slowly beginning to replace what had been cloudless, hues of violet, salmon, and navy still stretched as far as the eye could see. Chilling gusts cut through the dancing grasses of the clearing that held only scattered patches of snow, whipping across his masked face and through the pewter strokes of his thick coat. The boy stood atop a meager knoll, the forest to his back and the mountains, faraway, sprawled before him; amid a world so beautiful with a heart dripping with hope, the boy was overwhelmed by peace.
Mirren had departed from his other half hours ago in search of solitude. All his life he'd cherished the quiet that came with being alone and the way it helped him to clear his head. A brisk run, a long hike, a refreshing swim. Today, it had been a meandering through the hills spanning between a creek and a forest that he'd taken to, and it was everything he'd hoped it would be. Staring into what remained of the sunlight as thunder claps echoed in the distance, he couldn't wait to feel the rain.