The wind rushing
through the damp leaves, continuous, steady, sounding like a low, slithery roar
in the distance.
The low sound of rain
spattering on the leaves and softened ground, all the patters of rain drops
blending softly in an unbroken purring.
Fallen water sluicing
away to some unknown place, with a whispering rustle of passing.
The water on the
eaves falling to the ground, striking a high splashing sound as the puddles deepen.
The thunder, far and
distant, purring into short, rolling roars.
The blending sounds
are ever fluctuating, sometimes sounding pale and distant, like the storm may
suddenly end, sometimes sounding loud and near, almost an angry noise, as the
storm grows more intense.
The mood of the storm
never staying constant, the blends of noise encircling, then retreating.
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