The "smell" of impending rain, which I'm told is really the smell of far-off dust stirred by distant rain, appeals to me. The sight of streaks of dark purple clouds on a stormy horizon, "rain falling" literally to ground, gives me a bit of a thrill.
I remember once my wife and I were out for dinner in January in a Southern California restaurant in the foothills called The Barkley. We looked outside, and in what had formerly been a clear night, a vivid, large-raindrop, torrid storm had begun. We felt that shiver of safe comfort and dry harbors.
I suppose I should find some metaphor about dark clouds and dark moods, but my life doesn't really work that way. I sometimes see sunny days in dark clouds. I also see sunny days in the sight of a reddish sun setting over farm fields. In this year of astronomic wonders, the sight of Mars winking beside the Moon enchants me.
I imagine that on a planet far away, some other being looks up at the sky, and sees something novel, and smiles. I imagine that a cormorant sees water breaking, and dreams of a fish beneath. I imagine that I look through a kaleidoscope, and see the swirl of prisms, and smile.