The occasional voice of thunder was deep and faint. The scent of rain was on the breeze as it gently accelerated and alternately slowed. The gray clouds tumbled into a roll and marched closer to the yoga deck from which I observed.
Because of the vastness of the ocean and sky, storms could be seen for miles and often did not actually arrive at Anamaya.
They emptied themselves of energy over the ocean and had nothing left for the shore or the jungle leaving only the hot humid breath when the sun peeked out and the skies turned to blue.
This storm was different as it continued to build and move closer. The thunder’s voice was louder and accompanied by occasional flashes in the clouds.
The scent of rain grew more intense delivered with cooling air as the storm marched forward. The skies overhead darkened and the wind swirled, stealing leaves and colorful blooms from the plants. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed and workers scurried to close all the open windows and doors. The storm raged for a while and then continued on its path with less fury for its next victim leaving only the rhythm of the rain which moved to a more gentle pace and finally a mist.
The clouds opened to allow a sunbeam to escape and rest on the mist in all its glorious color.
The rainbow greeted our evening yoga practice bring a sense of wonder and joy. We inhaled the fresh air left by the storm as we stretched and gazed at the rainbow. As the practice continued my eyes closed and the rainbow faded into the darkness without my witness.
When I opened my eyes, it had scattered its light into tiny sparkles across a navy blanket of sky.
Retired Girl in a Beautiful World 