Storm chasing on Highway 16:
It’s like dancing, hide and seek, and flirting all at once.
First you chase the storm…
…and then the storm chases you.
I would have reached out and touched her, she was so beautiful…
This storm of ours, of mine.
She must have heard me… this spirit of creation,
as suddenly there she was, reaching back.
Was that hello, or goodbye?
Before I could ask, she was gone.