The quiet hour before the storm is the loudest thing I know

There's a particular stillness that settles over this town about an hour before a thunderstorm rolls in — even the birds seem to hold their breath. I sat on the porch this morning with my coffee, just watching the light go that strange yellow-green, and I thought how much of my faith is like that. Not the storm itself, but that charged waiting, the moment you know something is coming and you're just... attentive to it.