All of a sudden the sky, the atmosphere, the light itself, have turned yellow, and a strong wind, like the blow of an angry and evil god, is severly bending the trees and wiping from the ground, at a great speed into the air, all the dust and sand and leaves and dirt it finds on its way. But not a drop of water has come down from the heavens.
Not yet.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Now the yellow has turned into dark bronze, the wind has died still, and a single blinding lightning, and a single deafening thunder, have made loose the wrath of the sky, pouring down with rage all its liquid arrows.

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