Summer has left us in the usual way.
Yesterday morning we sat outside in the near dark with our cereal bowls, watching jagged horizontal lightning crisscross the sky over the mountains and hearing the distant booming, getting louder, coming closer.
Last night we lay in bed listening, Orion too. No matter how we position ourselves, he tends to orient himself in a most inconvenient perpendicular manner. Summer was leaving. It began to sound as though he were pulling up the mountains to take with him. Or simply pounding them into the ground. It was glorious, just at the edge of frightfully loud, with the flashing and the booming and the rain splashing into the pool like stones. For me, thunderstorms are very like homemade vanilla ice cream. I wouldn't eat it every day, but when I do, it's my undisputed favorite.
So long summer.
So today the desert is wet and dripping and shiny with clouds of many shades moving fast overhead. Tomorrow will feel just a little more like a world where Halloween could happen.
I'm still recovering, feeling better, but not moving at my usual light speed. More like the speed of paint drying. But moving, nevertheless. Large rodents may still appear, after all.
Today is the deadline for entries TINY STORIES. However, as I just had a brush with our friend Grim and Podrasky just had a son, we might be convinced to accept last minute entries.
I'll talk with Bob in a few days and let you know what's up, er, as soon as I know.
I just heard a bit of thunder, not too close. Promises, promises. Puddles everywhere for little boys to splash in and dangerous old cats to avoid.
G'night
2 comments:
Speaking of gieant rodents... Gertie.
And thank you Lisa. Thanks for all you do, and say, and ask, and create. Very inspiring stuff.
Thunderstorms can indeed be wonderful. My childhood bed was on the top bunk situated right next to the window and I loved laying in bed at night and watching lightning storms. I don't see as many as an adult...too tired, but last year there was an amazing light show and I found myself at 2 a.m. sitting against the wall with the front door open, sheltering my frightened dog and basking in the electric glory of the storm. Good stuff.
I don't know if I'm the only one but I feel guilty for letting time slip away and not at least trying more tiny stories. I loved the ones you posted early on and can't wait to see the finished project once its done.
Post a Comment