Sleeping before the storm

Here I sit on the porch. Under a shingle covered roof, my rocking chair rocks on a well beaten wood floor. I stare through a screen to see the beauty that surrounds me. Suddenly a breeze sweeps through the yard rustling the leaves that have fallen on the ground, Spanish moss sways in the great oaks.

The breeze turns to a wind as I hear palmettos whispering among themselves. Honking cranes flee from the arousing storm. Dark clouds shadow the lawn, and the sun shrinks away. A chill creeps over me. I pull my blanket over my shoulders. A streak of lightning flashes, closely followed by a loud clap of thunder that rings in my ears. Big drops of rain fall from the sky and quench the thirsty ground. 

    I doze off to the sound of pelting rain on the roof--a lovely sound