The energy rioted with an angry power, struggling to break free of the seal that confined it, and rain continued to pour from the sky. But the fury had gone out of the storm, trapped as it was within the crystal orb at my feet. I never wavered from my position on the edge of the cliffs though, and showed none of the bone chilling exhaustion that I felt. Watching the waves calm and subside as a result of an afternoon’s labors gave me satisfaction and I wanted to see it. This power to control storms was both unique and frightening, but I could no more turn away from it than I could stop breathing. They called to me, each with a personalized voice and emotion, and when I picked up an orb to press my ear against its crystal surface I could hear its song.
No lyrics or words punctuated the deep melody of this particular one, but at the same time I understood its meaning. The tempo was faced passed and erratic, its tone completely variable; that’s how I knew the storm was angry. But something else within the music confused me. I’d never heard anything quite like it before. It was similar to the chimes of a bell, but softer and a far less distinct sound. The more I thought about it, though the farther I seemed to slip away from the answer I sought. Pulling my ear from the glass, I set it back again by my feet and moved to find a more comfortable rock to sit on.
The world is essentially made of music, built on the sounds of nature. Earth rumbles a deep bass as it shifts, water rushes by downstream or crashes like drums against a beach, and the creatures that live on their offerings produce sounds of their own. But none sing to me half as clearly as a storm, no matter how attentively I might listen. I can feel them somewhere deep inside me, pressure building as the clouds accumulate moisture enough to break. And all the while their music captivates me, lodged in my head, always repeating until I take up my crystal orb and confine it.
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