My mother tells me of climbing a mountain when she was my age, during a period of drought. She picked up a rock from which she heard a buzzing sound, as if there was an insect trapped inside of it. Looking up, she realized she had in fact been surrounded by a storm cloud. She ran down the mountainside, her braids standing up straight. The electricity of the lightning as it prepared to take form caused the vibration in the molecules of the stones, and the static in her hair.