Above the gray plain of the sea breeze clouds gather. Between the clouds and the sea proudly fluttering Petrel, like black lightning.That wing touching the waves, then an arrow soaring to the clouds, he cries, and - the clouds hear the joy in bold cry of a bird.
This cry - a thirst for the storm! The force of anger, the flames of passion and confidence in the victory clouds hear this cry.
- Storm! Soon the storm will break!