Q describe the few minutes just before and after an

Q. Describe the few minutes just before and after an outdoor event is ruined
weather.
by

A whiff of freshly baked apple pie drifts towards my nostrils
tempting both my gustatory and olfactory buds as I yearn to take a
bite of the layered cake, with the hard, crispy surface and the
Creamy, Velvety layers tasting as soft as they’d look simply gushing
down my currently parched mouth. The pungent, bitter-sweet
odour of delicacies adorned with thyme and cinnamon prick my
nostrils as I walk over to join the group intensely packed in
discussion, a few eyeing each other with bladed eyes that could
pierce one’s soul. Gradually droplets a different odour stimulates my
nostrils one resembling the muddy, earthed smell of petrichor . As
droplets of water begin to adorn my face, smudging my eyelines and
causing it to trickle down my down pink cheeks like a river gushing
down a mountain, I begin to wonder to myself. Was it merely
droplets of the saline seawater reaching us due to the restless
bunch of having children a gala of a time near the sea or was it the
heavens showering us with torrents of rain to drench us?

My question is answered as I frowningly glance upwards to look at the to heavy
bank of greying clouds resembling whiffs of smoke cloaking nearer to each other
and concealing the flaming orb which now submergingly accepts it defeat to the
fury of the rainclouds. They menacingly begin to pelt a violent tattoo of a
multitude of never ending water droplets, disrupting our relish intent of the
freshly brewed coffee and chatter sessions which had launched me into a
reminiscent saga of memories. I was on anchored to the spot whilst the others
begin to staggeringly pace themselves with a rocketing velocity to stuff their
belongings into their brightly coloured handbags. My rooted spot to motion is
eventually broken as I leap like a gazelle in the dancing-Prairie grass, grasping my
belongings to hear the menacing, broken and angered sounds of thunder, which
seemed to glare at all of us with the clouds seeming like daggers, drowning the