The Sigh

It started with dry leaves pirouetting around the yard on the back of a skittish breeze, the magnolia rubbing against the fence as if scratching an itch, a few raindrops teasing a thirst. Then, distant thunder. The sound seemed to cue a tightening in the core, an instinctive brace against what was to come. Soon, a sudden flash… followed by a loud crack and a shudder sent rolling through the guts of every living thing. Wind clawed at seams, unpicking the afternoon to fling leaf, branch and limb into tumbling air, cartwheeling chairs across the lawn. Hailstones tore the fragile into bite size bits, beheading blooms before suddenly stopping and crusting the ground in a white shroud of innocence. It was over. An unusual quiet let soft sounds soothe the air - trickling water, the tap of weighted leaves shedding raindrops, murmurings of ice melt. I felt an easing as if an anger within me had been released leaving only a sigh.