So here's the begginning, during, and after of a summertime thunderstorm in South Florida. It rains nearly every afternoon circa 4 pm from mid-June to mid-September. You can set your watch to it. When it rains like this, the air becomes charged with a viscel, electric energy. All the greens take on a darker, richer color. The air smells musky, organic, and moist. You can see and feel the fauna recharging, drenched in the sun-less sky.
This is the edge of the storm. As you can see, the heart of the storm was a distance away. The rain is pounding so hard in the middle of that.
Anyway, I've randomly been playing this Modest Mouse song a lot, and I thought it would be appropraite for these images. I think Issac Brock is one of the greatest lyricists ever.
I'll admit, though, that I haven't listened to any of their albums since good news. Not because I think they got worse or changed or anything. but for some other reason I can't even explain.
Perhaps it's called getting older.
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