A forest after the passage of a storm is a strange place to be. The wind still gusts, wild and chill. Green leaves glisten and rustle. There's the strong scent of soaked earth, and somewhere over the rainbow that arches in that razor between brooding, lightning laced skies and sunlight streaming is a promise.
It is, like everything else in this reality it seems, a duality...it's over now...for now.
Like tornadoes and trailer parks and the walls we build between the demons of chaos and ourselves so many things are taken for granted when really they should be treasured before they fall.
Odd. Often said, seldom remembered. You have to lose it to find it.