A Storm is Nigh

As I step outside of my house, my body immediately feels that something is different. A slight shade of gray seems to penetrate every object in the cloudy afternoon light. Even my gray/silver car seems to be a bit gloomy today. A warm breeze passes across my face and the trees in my front yard shiver despite the eerie warmth. The air, though not sticky, feels moist and threatening. I take a deep breath and smell nothing. No wet pavement smell, no smell of grass, no smell of garbage from the overflowing cans in the side yard. Nothing. Besides the hum of cars passing aimlessly through SLO on the 101, nothing is heard. Suddenly, de ja vous hits me and I am feeling something that I've felt before: the advent of some mystery.
Stepping out from under the eave of my front porch, I look up: Clouds cover the entire central coast in a dark gray blanket at about 3000 feet with beautiful wispy patterns. It looks as though some giant had taken his wire whisk to a meringue pie and whipped it up into beautiful wavy patterns, and as one large puzzle it moves with uncanny uniformity toward the north.
A storm is nigh.