The sun glared angry this morning, peering crossly from behind a veil of thin dark clouds. It scowled down on the world, as if to issue a stern warning.
“Without me it could be very bad for you.”
The clouds could not be faulted for this mood. Though grey, they lacked the strength of true storm clouds. Mere scabs in need of work, they were poor substitutes for the real thing.
Later, when the amateurs had withdrawn, real clouds appeared on the far horizon, cleverly disguised as puffy friendly marshmallows. Disdainful of the sun’s posturing, they kept their distance. The sun was laid bare, nakedly exposed for her weakness; an insecure Broadway star, unwilling to acknowledge the importance of her co-stars.
Earth turned a cold shoulder, unable to deny the sunshine but remaining slightly chilled.
When the clouds made their move, it was bold and authoritative. They roared in, transformed into a cool, black and mighty tempest. The air was made electric by lightning, thunder exploded. Waves of rain pelted the ground, leaving puddles on the earth, unable as it was to absorb so much, so fast.
Having demonstrated their might, they rapidly withdrew and the sun was permitted to shine once more. Earth glistened in bright hues of green. The message was clear. The relationship of clouds and sun is symbiotic; none is mightier than the other.
Earth welcomed the sun’s rays, casting aside the bitterness of the earlier sulking. The sun, duly admonished, departed in a brilliant display of color, light refracting off beads of moisture from the clouds. Night descended.