I grew up in Plaquemine, Louisiana, where the older folks could tell you it was going to rain before there was a cloud in the sky. As a little boy, I would hear one of them say, “A storm is coming.” I would run outside, look up at a bright blue sky, and come back convinced they were wrong. “There’s not a cloud out there,” I would say.
They would smile and answer, “Baby, you haven’t lived long enough yet.” Before the day was over, the wind would shift. The air would get heavy. Dark clouds would gather, and the rain would come pouring down. Back then, I thought they had some kind of magic.
Now I understand. They had experience. They had survived enough storms to recognize the signs before everybody else could see them…