I always like to think of nimbus clouds as the intruders—dark and overpowering they are, like a legion of the underworld unleashed over the firmament. They swan across the sky like the mighty army of Anubis, invading their way into the cerulean kingdom.
There’s something peculiarly intoxicating about the sea during a storm. With the blackness spreading across the sky, and the wind gaining valor, the romance between the sea and the shore turns into a raving play of coitus. The sea gets frothier as it rhythmically rubs over the beach, leaving behind a trace of sudsy wetness every time she pulls away. And you hear her moans play in assonance, forming a perfect accord with the impaling interaction. You hear the razing thunder which—like a priest—announces eternal betrothal of the sea and the shore.
A bluster of loose sand fills the air in an orgasmic fervor, as the gale sweeps over the roused land, and it becomes almost impossible to stand at the beach and watch the offspring of the natural world engaged in the thespian display of lovemaking !