Caz

mills:

This stormfront was minutes away, and gentler white clouds and light blue sky still draped over us languidly; unaware of the violence headed towards them, they were like decorations at a party soon to turn foul. I took a few photographs of rain in the distance, gloom fast-approaching, then returned to my desk.

I then sat for some time watching as the darkness gathered, as though my eyes were closing slowly and in steps, and waited for the rain. When it came, it came with cracks of lightening and shortly-following thunder that shook the windows and made one feel as though one weren’t a manager in revenue-generating, global enterprise of some hundreds of thousands of employees working for their customers, themselves, their leaders, their subordinates, and their shareholders, hemmed in by complexly inconsistent policies designed to regulate the unreliable behavior humans exhibit and minimize the so-called ‘exposure’ of the company to ‘liability,’ but rather that one was a primitive, crouching human on a plain being swallowed by the sky.

The interruptions of our routines brought about by disaster accounts for our abiding attraction to it, I think, as does the manner in which profoundly severe weather, with its indifference to all we’ve wrought as a species, reminds us of scales of existence and cycles of time beyond the minimal ones we anxiously inhabit.

I am grateful for that. It felt so nice to watch the sky wash over us all.

(From Photophobia; larger size).

I’ve said it before… I get lost in the words when Mills writes….