The Sky Howling

Back and forth...and forth and back again. I've never seen him quite as restless. As if he couldn't find a quiet space in which to settle rest.

The winds - madly blowing. The rains - soaking and over-filling.

Strange to find this icon of patience and perseverance and silent solitary focus - at such a loss. I wondered what they know - these creatures of many feathers. I wondered what they do to protect survive. I wondered if - perhaps - he might be able to forecast the weather any better than any of us.

And - I watched from the relative safety of the dry ground I was standing on. The waters rising and - at the same time - falling. The sky howling.

They wanted to call it the perfect storm. I wanted to call it - inspiring.