The air feels heavy, almost oppressive, and still. Everything goes a little too quiet. and then comes the first crack of lightning, followed by a low growl of thunder—you wait for the next lightning bolt... then count under yr breath...(one mississippi, two mississippi, three missis—) CRACK! It's getting closer.
There is a special magic in summer thunderstorms. Something at once melancholy & revitalizing. Fat droplets fall almost lazily, showering everything gently, then pick up velocity, like the clouds are throwing the rain and pelting the earth. And then it's over. There are a few beats of silence again while rain finishes pouring out of house gutters and sinks into the dry, sunbaked earth with little pips and sizzles. Gradually, the world's sounds come back to life—birds shake themselves dry and start to sing, bees come back out to drone in search of pollen, cars that pulled over to wait out the rain restart and begin to pull onto roads from the shoulders they were resting on.
We emerge washed clean—Reborn.
This latest creation by CVLT OF WAX attempts to recreate the wet earth, saturated greenery, heavy humidity smells of a late afternoon / high summer cloudburst.