The calm before the storm (ironically).
I’m sitting at home in the dark, watching a huge electrical storm fly across Beijing. It’s bucketing rain, and the sky is alive with white flashes, which move through the canyons between the buildings. More impressive than the light, though, is the way the sound moves. Thunder crashes, and you hear it in two waves: the real, organic sound of the actual hit followed by the dull, bass driven movement as the reverberations bounce slowly and endlessly through the city, passing from building to building.
I’m about to enter what is probably the busiest two weeks of my career so far. And this massive storm is actually very peaceful. The city stops moving when it storms: people scurry for cover, the car horns fade and the people just…watch. Looking out my window, I can see four other people doing what I’m doing: watching, contemplating the power of nature.
It’s amazing that only an act so violent and dominating can silence this city, stopping the never ending movement in it’s tracks. And tomorrow will probably be a clear and beautiful day. Here is hoping, anyway.