Storm!

A wicked thunderstorm rolled in late yesterday afternoon. Loud explosions of air clapping against air filled the void left by lighting strikes that hit like God's Gatling gun, spraying the area with chaos. This morning's calm, like a glorious exhaustion after frenzied sex. The cloudless sky, brilliant with sunlight that stings eyes and skin, bringing out peak colors, a crystal clarity, as if the storm peeled off a thin layer of film, dingy and spotted, washing it down into sewers and streams and ultimately, out to sea....

Now, driving home from the gym, Johnny Winter is screaming the blues:

If the river was whiskey and I was a divin

Baby I was a diving duck, whoa

If the river was whiskey and I was a divin Duck

I would dive on the bottom, Baby I would never come up

Well the suns gonna shine in my back door,

Baby in my back door someday

The sun gonna shine in my back door someday

Well the wind gonna blow all

Your blues away

And it did exactly that.