Sweet sweet Santa Fe

And again the wind rose up and the thunder struck and the rain leaned out across the canyon. It drove into the open end of the porch like shot and glanced off her bare legs. At the source of the rain the deep black bank of the sky swelled and rolled, moving slowly southward under the rock rims of the canyon walls. And in the cold and denser dark, with the sound and sight of fury all around, Angela stood transfixed in the open door and breathed deep into her lungs the purest electric scent of the air. She closed her eyes, and the clear aftervision of the rain...