I heard the thunder as it roared over my head seconds after lightning streaked across the sky. The road was dark but the creations of man were all around me.

It was just a few seconds before that these ominous creations of man were light up eerily by the lighting that streaked through the sky just after which thunder struck and it was all dark again. It was as if the earth did not agree to my viewing man’s grand creations.

It was one of those nights in the city where because of thunderstorms the brains behind the running of the city had in the name of safety turned off the power supply for the better part of the city and it was during this time that I had to rush out into this huge expansion of human construction which had risen out of earth’s belly to reach the tiny abode I call home.

The streets although dark was not without its sounds. The sounds of men and women scurrying about trying to get back home from this freak storm, whilst cars with it’s wipers swiping at full speed trudged slowly along the roads with their headlights as two tiny eyes providing the faint light of luminescence across the cityscape.

The sounds of men trudging along the pavement were unique. It was as if even in this bleak weather nature and man had to come together to create a symphony. The sounds of boots and heels walking hurriedly over the puddles formed in the pavement mixed with the sound of raindrops splashing over the umbrellas of the lucky few who had them flowed over me.

Whilst man’s movements along with nature’s bounty created a cacophony of musical notes, man himself was expressing himself vividly to himself and to others through his the magical construct which we refer to as language. The happy tones of children as they jumped across the puddles, to the voices of parents who were more worried about diseases catching up with their children punctuated with the silence of the business man as he trudged across the cityscape all came together to create a music which ran through my head just as Beethoven’s music would have soothed many  a soul in Vienna.

As this orchestra of music went on around me, my mind was busy creating it’s own story. Thoughts and memories hidden in the deepest recesses of the mind had come out and mixed with the orchestra of mankind. Memories of childhood, mixed with the heartbreak of teen life and the humdrum push of adult life washed over me.

The orchestra was drawing to a close as I reached my humble abode. Whilst my raincoat was dripping water onto the floor muddied by my boots I looked back and smiled at this newly created memory “the walk in the storm”