(no subject)

[raisin3010]

The light drizzle became an understated omen as the early afternoon began resembling a gray, threatening version of the approaching evening. The downpour followed shortly, rapidly diminishing the effectiveness of the windshield wipers, as did the lightning, lingering in the sky for impressively yet frighteningly long periods of time. Everyone knows you shouldn’t look directly at the sun, yet the lightning didn’t seem any more advisable at the time. The storm wasn’t close since we didn’t hear even traces of thunder, but my dad compensated with his approximations, and my mom accented his sharp claps of thunder with her respective startled cries. Remembering the drive on the Palisades when lightning struck the forested area directly adjacent to the road, when you could feel the vibrations from the impact and saw smoke rise from the fallen tree, it was easy to feel uneasy about the admittedly awe-inspiring, intense lightning. All the cars began slowly shifting over to the right lane and, sanctioning my intentions in spite of my mom’s unwavering preference for not speeding past the hazard light-ridden cars, my dad motioned his hand to the left and voiced his relief about finally being able to move past the traffic. I noticed that my wrists began hurting and quickly remembered that clinging to the wheel would not deter lighting from striking nearby. Yet, in my defense, it was often necessary to hold the car steady where water had accumulated on the road or against the strong winds, swaying the car in ways that my mother clearly did not appreciate.

As usual, everything calmed as suddenly as it began. The sky’s deep-orange seemed to transform the dark concrete into sand and the gorgeous setting of the remainder of the ride was nature’s reconciliatory way of asking, without much regard for the answer, “yo we cool, right?” Of course, the strong winds and bright lightning resumed at night, a friendly reminder that nature doesn’t speak, especially not pseudo-ebonics.