It was the glow before the coming storm. The wind had eased, only slightly, and there was a stillness that slowed all senses.
There was electricity in the air that moved through the humidity and set the fine hair on my arms to stand on end. The sun was setting somewhere on the horizon. It also set the clouds on fire.
The spring growth had begun. Buds on trees had already burst open, but the leaves would be some time before they expanded and obscured the branches from which they clung. The black silhouette against the orange sky created an intricate weave, like roadways on a map. Like blood vessels, seen across inner, closed eyelids that faced a bright light source.
A spring sunset, marking the coming storm.