From the inside looking out, it could be a cooling rain. The sky is a winter shade of gray. Immersed in air conditioned by freon, you could almost believe that you'll need your coat for outside. But it's not cold. Even though the calendar says May... the hot, humid rain that is falling outside screams July or August. It's the sort of storm that renders the air much warmer than what it was before storm. It is anything but cooling or cleansing.
I'm about to leave for an overnight trip to Oakdale. My little brother graduates from college there tomorrow. With the shift of a tassel and the snore-inducing groan of a commencement speech... both of the Fletcher brothers will be bachelor's degree men. Just a few years ago, neither of us knew of Oakdale. And in that few years' time, we've gone there, given the town our four years and moved on. What will the next few years hold? Where will we be when we look back on 2005?
The thunder has started. The sky is pissed. You don't have to see the lightning, you can hear the hard, sharp crackle when it forces its way through the air. And even the lightning has to use force on a day like today. The air is so thick, you can move it with your cupped palm. I love a good storm. There is uncertainty in it. The combination of the lightning and thunder and rain are all signs that the world is unsettled.
Out into the hot, humid rain I go...