Storm to Calm

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All was din .It seemed never-ending. Relentless rain reverberated of the roof, constant, beating like sneer drums. The monster of Mother Nature attacked. Releasing her sorrows, fat teardrops fell, tiny missiles pelting the earth. From her lips came winds, wildly whipping the Pohutakawas, who bowed and creaked in surrender. Icy, frigid it whistled through the windows and sent rain pelting against the glass where I watch.
Trapped in ensconce of home the squall outside fails to reach me with its frigid grasp. I stand encased in the warm air billowing from the fire and gaze down on the river below. Turmoil. A raging, parading torrent carrying with it bunches of debris. It was brown, murky; rolling over itself, topped with small white-capped waves, frothing like a rapid dog.
Slowly, steadily rising. It nips at the bridges and inches steadily up towards our bank.

Colourless skies loomed overhead sending out occasional growls amidst the deluge. I ask myself again, will the clouds not run out of rain?!

Later, the downpour trickles to a halt. An uncanny calm emerges as the sun seeps through the dull. Clouds drift away, curtains parting, azure the sky is revealed.
Mother nature, exhausted from her fit of rage sends only whispers to the Pohutakawas who sway, caressed by her tranquil words.
The river, days after, is now a glassy mirror, reflecting the cloudless space above. The Sun shines, skipping its beams like bright stones across the water. Out on its surface I sit, like an eel it winds through the banks - this sleek sinuous, full-bodied animal. My paddle pierces its blue skin, in and out, in and out. I leave a trail of concentric ripples, which radiate out, distorting the clear reflection of my kayak.
Breathing I taste the air, crisp, fresh, heavy no more with the weight of precipitation. All was still