The Storm
As I was leaving Portland last night, a huge storm was brewing. The sky was split into quadrants- In one corner, puffy, deep monochromatic grey and white clouds billowed seductively. in another corner, broiling, massive yellowy clouds performed some sort of death dance. Off in the distance an ocean-like bank of deep black clouds was rolling in right on top of clear blue sky. Then, stunningly, the eerie light illuminated a glorious rainbow. It was hovering in the air, a perfect half circle, looming closer every second, trapping underneath it an electric yellow fog. Lightning coursed through the sky, restricted by the rainbow, unable to escape its spectrum. The thunder rolled in for long, timeless seconds. I was immobilized with awe. I had to pull over to the side of spooky, deserted Burnside and watch it all happen. It struck me almost as hard as if the lightning itself had hit me. Some electric omen. Some signal. Portland is where the action is.
