Thunderclouds gather into ominous shapes overhead while the seemingly endless sea craves the adventure of the storm.
A watery mist begins to appear and the raging waves whip against my boat as if they want to devour me with their very next breath. The thunderstorm challenges me to do battle. It hits me with the fiery fragrance of its breath, telling me in no uncertain terms that I’m on my own.
I rear up and look straight into its eyes, the blood rushing in my ears. I heave the rudder around, trusting my instinct and feeling the sensation of heroic strength spreading through my body. It merges with my mental clarity, allowing me to defuse this battle into a mere challenge.
Acqua tempesta. You’re tempestuous. So am I.
