Angry

Every downstairs window had fogged up on the outside, quickly. I learned why the moment I stepped outside. Still raining, the suddenly warm, wet air felt thick and angry. The swollen, fast-moving creek seemed angry, too. Upon returning from my walk, I saw that the temperature had risen 11 degrees in one hour or less. Three toads had emerged from their hiding place under the soil at the bottom of the basement window well, called out by the warmth. Soon after my boots were off, the pre-sunset sky turned dark. This was tornado weather…a continuance of the ongoing battle between warm and cold air.

angry

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