After every Stormm, comes sunshine.
Apr 9, 2018 15:19:12 GMT -5
Kyle Shane, Dominator / Mortimer, and 1 more like this
Post by Tyler Scott on Apr 9, 2018 15:19:12 GMT -5
They say there is no such thing as bad weather - only the wrong clothing. Well I have got an outfit for every fucking occasion.
The winds pick up.
Trees begin to sway and creek in the bustling breeze. A sense of foreboding fills the air. Woodland creatures scurry for shelter. Birds vacate the sky. Tyler Scott stops and stands still - his woodland walk annoyingly spoilt by a brewing storm. But a spot of bad weather will not halt his journey.
Above his head, clouds of smoky grey and the darkest black tumble over one another - jostling for supremacy. They fill the beautiful blue sky from east to west, bringing a dominating darkness across the land. A definitive shadow marches across the rolling hills, hiding lush green pastures behind a curtain.
Tyler holds out and his hand and feels the fine tiny droplets of rain in his palm. The air becomes cold and humid it the wind increases in intensity. A uniform breeze turns into a magnitude of gusting gales. Tyler, knowing that he must complete his journey, presses on regardless.
The trees that were creaking now snap. Branches splinter off and plummet to the ground. Amber and brown leaves drop off and swirl overhead in swarms. The headwind ploughs into Tyler, trying to prevent him from moving forward but he drops his head and powers on.
Behind the clouds, the neon yellow of a building electrical storm bubbles away. The rumbling of thunder is low and menacing. At first it was quiet and far in the distance but with every crack of light, the thunder becomes louder and deeper.
Heading out of the forest and along the riverbank, one large drop of water splashes across Tyler’s forehead marking the start of what is the come. Within seconds, sheets of near horizontal rain pound the earth. The ice cold droplets pelt Tyler, freezing almost immediately on his skin.
Hail and sleet mix in and bounce violently off the ground. In the near distance, the sound of hail dinging off car bonnets and then smashing through windscreens is heard before car alarms set and off in almost a synchronous chorus. Balls of ice hit Tyler in the face but he does not hesitate and he does not stop even as the rainfall builds.
A shower becomes and deluge. A deluge becomes a monsoon.
All around him, the waters rise. Off the mountains and through the valleys - the rapids pick up speed. The waters bring with them debris of former settlements further up stream. Signs of broken communities wash up on the backs of the river - shattered glass, splintered wood and drowned cuddly toys.
On the banks of the river, Tyler looks down. The waters breach the banks and begin to slowly but surely rise up this boots.
Tyler Scott continues to walk but the water seeps through his footwear and soaking his socks. Gradually the waters surpass his ankles and, instead of strolling next to a calm river, he finds himself wading through a vast lake.
Tyler suddenly hears a rumble - not a rumble of thunder but something different. The sound is not coming from the sky - it is coming from much lower. Tyler turns to look upstream, across the valley. In the distance he can see the river bursting - the earth crumbling on either side. A brown landslide of soil and vegetation tumbles down the side of the hill. A wall of water heads towards Tyler gathering pace and violence as it comes. Bicycles, cars, sheep and cows all swallowed up by the raging torrent.
Tyler has no where to go. He knows that he must face the onslaught. He stands talks and wait for the impact.
The water slams into Tyler, whisking him off his feet with intense power. His head bobs up and under the water. Every time his head goes under he tries to hold his breathe but every time he gulps a mouthful of muddy water and sediment into his lungs.
Tyler, gaining his bearings, looks out across the ravenous rapids to see detritus floating past him. He reaches out, grasping at twigs and beaches, until he finally hugs a large logs. Stabilised, Tyler takes a moment to compose himself. Looking ahead, he sees the valley narrowing and a steep wall of rock blocking his path. He realises he must take action - he must get out of the water.
Ahead, a large oak tree drops over the raging river. As Tyler passes under, he reaches up and grabs a branch with his right hand. His arthritic knuckles strain. The bones in his hands feel as they are crossing over one another as he holds on defiantly as the torrent tries to dislodge him. But Tyler pulls up his left hand and grips the branch slightly higher. Gradually Tyler pulls himself up and out of the water. Shuffling along the tree, he reaches rare dry land and drops to the ground. L
With saturated and dripping clothing, Tyler stands on the side of the Rocky Mountain. The rain has stopped but the clouds still send a menacing message. The winds begin to pick up again. A solitary snowflake falls on his nose.
The higher he climbs the more dense the snow becomes. What were light white fluffy flakes turns into a dark wall of ice. Tyler can no longer see his outstretched arm in front of him. The snow smacks into his face, every gust of wind bringing another ice cold slap. The snow lands in his eyes, freezing instantaneously on his eyelashes.
Deeper and deeper the snow builds. Layer upon layer upon layer. From the fields on either side of his path, the bitter circling wind blows the snow in Tyler’s direction, depositing huge snow drifts in front of him. Against the hedgerows, snowdrifts of six feet high or more tower over Tyler.
With every step, Tyler sinks a little deeper. A crystal white quicksand that swallows and engulfs his foot. Up to his ankle. Up to his shin. Up to the kneecap and then the thigh. Each step is harder than the last - hoisting his legs up out of the snow with his arms. Soon the snow reaches waist height and Tyler can no longer move his legs. He has no leverage - no momentum. With his energy sapped, he is half-buried.
But Tyler grimaces and groans. With every unspent joule of energy in his body, he pushes down on the rock hard snow. Using his upper body strength he pulls his legs upwards towards the surface. Grasping at the branches of small trees poking out of the snow, Tyler drags himself out.
He crawls through the snow on his hands and knees trying to spread his weight as evenly as he can. The snow does not relent, cascading down to his back, creating an ever increasing burden to carry. However, Tyler rises to his feet, shedding the extra load and shaking off the pressure. Through the blizzard he keeps going - placing one foot in front of the other - the approach that has successfully seen him through life thus far.
As Tyler progresses upwards, the snow begins to subside. The flakes becomes less and less dense and until finally they desist - just as Tyler has no where else to go. He stops dead in his tracks as his vision clears - only to reveal that his next step would send him over the edge of a cliff edge. Teetering on the edge, he manages to hold his balance and looks around him. In all directions, the earth is beneath him. He had persisted. He had fought through the most brutal of weather all the while continuing to climb upwards. Never once did Tyler Scot look down, until now.
The darkness of the storm breaks. Through the blackness, a bright blue sky appears. Sunlight once again beams down heavenly and Tyler Scott basks gloriously.
On the top of the tallest mountain, high above North America, Tyler Scott stands victorious.
After every Stormm, comes sunshine.
The winds pick up.
Trees begin to sway and creek in the bustling breeze. A sense of foreboding fills the air. Woodland creatures scurry for shelter. Birds vacate the sky. Tyler Scott stops and stands still - his woodland walk annoyingly spoilt by a brewing storm. But a spot of bad weather will not halt his journey.
Above his head, clouds of smoky grey and the darkest black tumble over one another - jostling for supremacy. They fill the beautiful blue sky from east to west, bringing a dominating darkness across the land. A definitive shadow marches across the rolling hills, hiding lush green pastures behind a curtain.
Tyler holds out and his hand and feels the fine tiny droplets of rain in his palm. The air becomes cold and humid it the wind increases in intensity. A uniform breeze turns into a magnitude of gusting gales. Tyler, knowing that he must complete his journey, presses on regardless.
The trees that were creaking now snap. Branches splinter off and plummet to the ground. Amber and brown leaves drop off and swirl overhead in swarms. The headwind ploughs into Tyler, trying to prevent him from moving forward but he drops his head and powers on.
Behind the clouds, the neon yellow of a building electrical storm bubbles away. The rumbling of thunder is low and menacing. At first it was quiet and far in the distance but with every crack of light, the thunder becomes louder and deeper.
Heading out of the forest and along the riverbank, one large drop of water splashes across Tyler’s forehead marking the start of what is the come. Within seconds, sheets of near horizontal rain pound the earth. The ice cold droplets pelt Tyler, freezing almost immediately on his skin.
Hail and sleet mix in and bounce violently off the ground. In the near distance, the sound of hail dinging off car bonnets and then smashing through windscreens is heard before car alarms set and off in almost a synchronous chorus. Balls of ice hit Tyler in the face but he does not hesitate and he does not stop even as the rainfall builds.
A shower becomes and deluge. A deluge becomes a monsoon.
All around him, the waters rise. Off the mountains and through the valleys - the rapids pick up speed. The waters bring with them debris of former settlements further up stream. Signs of broken communities wash up on the backs of the river - shattered glass, splintered wood and drowned cuddly toys.
On the banks of the river, Tyler looks down. The waters breach the banks and begin to slowly but surely rise up this boots.
Tyler Scott continues to walk but the water seeps through his footwear and soaking his socks. Gradually the waters surpass his ankles and, instead of strolling next to a calm river, he finds himself wading through a vast lake.
Tyler suddenly hears a rumble - not a rumble of thunder but something different. The sound is not coming from the sky - it is coming from much lower. Tyler turns to look upstream, across the valley. In the distance he can see the river bursting - the earth crumbling on either side. A brown landslide of soil and vegetation tumbles down the side of the hill. A wall of water heads towards Tyler gathering pace and violence as it comes. Bicycles, cars, sheep and cows all swallowed up by the raging torrent.
Tyler has no where to go. He knows that he must face the onslaught. He stands talks and wait for the impact.
The water slams into Tyler, whisking him off his feet with intense power. His head bobs up and under the water. Every time his head goes under he tries to hold his breathe but every time he gulps a mouthful of muddy water and sediment into his lungs.
Tyler, gaining his bearings, looks out across the ravenous rapids to see detritus floating past him. He reaches out, grasping at twigs and beaches, until he finally hugs a large logs. Stabilised, Tyler takes a moment to compose himself. Looking ahead, he sees the valley narrowing and a steep wall of rock blocking his path. He realises he must take action - he must get out of the water.
Ahead, a large oak tree drops over the raging river. As Tyler passes under, he reaches up and grabs a branch with his right hand. His arthritic knuckles strain. The bones in his hands feel as they are crossing over one another as he holds on defiantly as the torrent tries to dislodge him. But Tyler pulls up his left hand and grips the branch slightly higher. Gradually Tyler pulls himself up and out of the water. Shuffling along the tree, he reaches rare dry land and drops to the ground. L
With saturated and dripping clothing, Tyler stands on the side of the Rocky Mountain. The rain has stopped but the clouds still send a menacing message. The winds begin to pick up again. A solitary snowflake falls on his nose.
The higher he climbs the more dense the snow becomes. What were light white fluffy flakes turns into a dark wall of ice. Tyler can no longer see his outstretched arm in front of him. The snow smacks into his face, every gust of wind bringing another ice cold slap. The snow lands in his eyes, freezing instantaneously on his eyelashes.
Deeper and deeper the snow builds. Layer upon layer upon layer. From the fields on either side of his path, the bitter circling wind blows the snow in Tyler’s direction, depositing huge snow drifts in front of him. Against the hedgerows, snowdrifts of six feet high or more tower over Tyler.
With every step, Tyler sinks a little deeper. A crystal white quicksand that swallows and engulfs his foot. Up to his ankle. Up to his shin. Up to the kneecap and then the thigh. Each step is harder than the last - hoisting his legs up out of the snow with his arms. Soon the snow reaches waist height and Tyler can no longer move his legs. He has no leverage - no momentum. With his energy sapped, he is half-buried.
But Tyler grimaces and groans. With every unspent joule of energy in his body, he pushes down on the rock hard snow. Using his upper body strength he pulls his legs upwards towards the surface. Grasping at the branches of small trees poking out of the snow, Tyler drags himself out.
He crawls through the snow on his hands and knees trying to spread his weight as evenly as he can. The snow does not relent, cascading down to his back, creating an ever increasing burden to carry. However, Tyler rises to his feet, shedding the extra load and shaking off the pressure. Through the blizzard he keeps going - placing one foot in front of the other - the approach that has successfully seen him through life thus far.
As Tyler progresses upwards, the snow begins to subside. The flakes becomes less and less dense and until finally they desist - just as Tyler has no where else to go. He stops dead in his tracks as his vision clears - only to reveal that his next step would send him over the edge of a cliff edge. Teetering on the edge, he manages to hold his balance and looks around him. In all directions, the earth is beneath him. He had persisted. He had fought through the most brutal of weather all the while continuing to climb upwards. Never once did Tyler Scot look down, until now.
The darkness of the storm breaks. Through the blackness, a bright blue sky appears. Sunlight once again beams down heavenly and Tyler Scott basks gloriously.
On the top of the tallest mountain, high above North America, Tyler Scott stands victorious.
After every Stormm, comes sunshine.
