We are nothing more than germs on the face of this blue marble we call Earth, no different than the germs on our hands. Even a rather small thunderstorm, in comparison to some of the massive supercell thunderstorms that can form out in the plain states, can make a human feel similar to that grain of bacteria.
A literal wall of rain approaches as the sound of a Siren heralding in all the golfers, rings out across the tree tops, to return to the clubhouse for shelter.
The towering Cumulonimbus that flanked my position to the West moved to block out the Sun just moments before I thought the rain would sweep over was a stunning skyscraper of a white puffball...
Birds began to catch the gusts of wind from the approaching storm to sail upwards with ease. Assuming they would be searching for shelter as well, when a wall of gray bulldozes its way towards them, even they would figure to hide for a bit.
