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On the hill I sat, the trees bending to nature’s will as the lead colored clouds raced angrily from all points defeated to all points doomed. The grass danced frantically, then flattened to the ground in desperation. The air was heavy as it struck the ground, ripping the leaves from the trees and tearing out the scent of wet earth from its hiding places.

On the hill you sat, lost birds shooting unnaturally across the sky to destinations unknown to you or them. The dark line advanced, boiling over the horizon and reaching tendrils down to the earth greedily. Lightning shattered the sky and thunder shook the ground as the curtain of rain advanced, obscuring the hills, then the trees at the foot of the hills, then finally the far edges of the fields.

On the hill we sat, and that was alright.