Descriptive essay stormy weather

The car that was behind me kept riding so close to mine that I couldn't even see their headlights. I ended up building up anger and keeping my eye on the car behind me. The moment I began to think about what was going on in front of the car, all I could see was water running down the windshield. No matter how hard I put my wipers on they just wouldn't go fast enough. It looked as if th Continue reading this essay Continue reading.

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  • In MegaEssays. Jerry replays the request, there's something odd about it but we can't figure out what. It's minus 27 Celsius with wind chill subtracting at least another twenty, no-one wants to speak. All we can hear is the raw power of the wind that rages around. Looking out of the periscope brings only an accelerated heart rate, visibility is zero. Agnes has a young son back home, Lionel has a new bride and Sarah a wife.

    We stand each with folded arms picking a different spot of the wall to look at.

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    Our frantic calls on the radio have stopped, no-one can stand the dead static that is the only response. Then Micky starts to suit up and the rest of us become as frozen as the snow outside, he picks up a tracker that will detect the beacons in their suits. As one we move to block the only exit. The more brutal the storm the calmer my heart. We prayed for so long for God to send winds enough to cover our tracks with the debris of a storm, to wash away any trace of our path, to remove our scents from the bracken.

    If the gale were any less we would have been picked off already by the auto-flyers with their infra-red sensors, but they cannot navigate in the unforgiving eddies of violent air. Bitter gusts rip at our flimsy clothing designed for nothing more than our purpose as code slaves. It bites at our faces and stings our eyes, narrowed to keep out the relentless curtain of rain. We refuse be reduced by this storm, we embrace is as our brother in arms, a benevolent gift from the divine creator. For only such violence can deliver us. We fear not what is ahead, only what is behind. When we have reached the northern boundary we will dig out our trackers with a shard of plastic and head west to the city.

    β€œ β€œit was a dark and stormy night.” - ppt download Linux vs windows essay papers

    Only in the throngs of the unwashed and faceless can we have any protection. Our guide is nervous. He points to the unbroken dense cloud above that has darkened to gun metal grey. The air is thick with moisture. No longer are the trees static, they bend like ocean kelp, twisting in the unseen currents.

    His cheerful teenage demeanour has evaporated, he is as gaunt as a soldier caught unexpectedly behind enemy lines. Our banter is replaced with nervous speculation, but we have no time to dwell, he breaks into a steady jog and all we can do is follow. There is no chance he'll slow for stragglers, our currency is not worth being caught out in what the skies promise to bestow.

    Then the rain sets in, not with a slow build up but all at once, a wall of water. The ground that was dry moments ago is awash, the wind steals into us as if we were naked. Before five minutes have passed nobody can see anyone else We should stop moving, regroup, but we have no means to communicate.

    We scatter like the leaves in their chaotic flight with nothing but our prayers for protection. It began with a slow pitter-pattering of rain, bouncing off the roof and forming puddles.


    We thought nothing of it and continued our game of cards, laughing and talking. It steadily built up to a thunderous deluge, so loud that we had to look up and peer out the window. The winds were driving the rain faster, harder, stronger than it had ever before. It died down a little, and I turned back to the game of cards.

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    But before I could play, lightning struck. It had hit an oak tree, legendary for surviving lightning strikes. I sighed a quick sigh of relief, but all of a sudden a loud cracking sound was heard, and with a mighty groan the king of the trees split in half, charred and alight with fire. It was only then that I began to fear the storm. The rain fell like an ocean thrown from the sky. It crashed into the town, splattered off the sidewalks, and formed instant rivers that raced along the gutters and overwhelmed the drains. There was no thunder. Just this avalanche of water that threatened to drown the world.

    The river beneath me began to swell, water cascading over the rocks. Clouds began to rumble and darken. Steadily building into a thunderous deluge, icy sheets of rain began to pour mercilessly from the ever darkening sky , making the unpaved bridge awash with mud and obscuring my vision. Suddenly, a fork of lightning, brilliant and buzzing with a magnificent electricity, flashed majestically through the groaning mountain of clouds. Whistling and shrieking, the wind raged through the night, like an angered bear.

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    Thunder rippled; the noise enveloped the river and its surroundings and the trees nearby were sleek with torrents of rain cold rainwater. The wind demanded to be heard. The lightning fought to be seen. The rain lived to soak my clothes. The storm had broken Crash of lightening, startled air, booming thunder rolls through sleepy hills, sheets of rain, forked lightening striking the church weather vane, blanket lightening brilliant like a camera flash, counting between the flash and the roar, storm approaching, rain pelting against window panes, wind whistling down the chimney top, fences creaking, tree tops bent, pitted against the unrelenting gale, streams full to bursting, ground mushy, squelchy, boggy, water lies in rain pelted puddles, roads become rivers.

    Heavy rain, sheets of water falling from dark skies, flooded streets, clothes soaked, unnatural darkness of the afternoon, rain beating down flamboyant trees, sky hot silver, lightening and thunder, storm overhead, storm far off over the forest, glorious clouded sunset, unpaved paths awash with mud, sinking sun shot through layers of grey cloud, streams and rivers swollen, innumerable little cascades over rocks.

    It had been the fiercest storm that had ever hit the land. She could still remember seeing it from the windows of her room, seeing the wind ripping through the air and hearing its high-pitched screams. She could hear thunder roaring violently and lightning tearing the sky apart, could see the ocean stirring violently, black waves like enormous claws ready to swallow everything in their way. The ocean that had once been a kind and gentle mother to them had become nothing but a savage consumed by wrath that night.

    The sea of Galilee has unstable emotions. In the morning, the fishing boat casts out to smooth waters and the sun shines brightly, but it is all a farce, a trap that the sea sets for those who make their living by catching and selling fish. Because, in one moment's time, the glassy smooth surface can stir, move, and churn. Dark, ominous clouds can appear from nowhere. Rain starts in droplets, and then develops quickly into stinging pellets. If the sails are unfolded, they must be struck in panic quickness. If the sails are not down with dispatch, the vessel will be pushed up a mountain wave and down into a valley of white water.

    The wooden mass can snap, and send the heavy beam crashing onto the deck. So, the entire crew is not fooled by the calm sea. The danger is a given for all of us, but today, today, the fish are filling the nets. The wind is howling like some horror movie opener and the room is dark as night. When I manage to focus on my clock it's almost noon. My Ziplocone hangover recedes almost instantly with eyes wired open and my heart beating faster than a heavy metal drummer. Still dressed in scrubs and sporting my new shiner I'm out in the street in just seconds.