I woke to flashes of light and the hope of a drumming storm. It was hours later before the rain came with the far off distant rumble of thunder. 

I have never welcomed the fall, nor the winter, but always reveled in  warm summer rains. In my young days rushing out with no umbrella to let the freshness of it wash over me, renewing my spirit.

It’s not as fresh as it was 30 or 40 years ago, now bearing bits of smog, dust from traffic, bits of human skin..yes even that dust finds its way outside…so many more humans per mile then times before… it does not smell the same. But even so, it is still fresher than the heat wave just passed. Fresher than the air which hung stagnant in smog the day before. And still greatly loved and appreciated.

I don’t go out this time..is it the arthritis, or the Pjs I dont want neighbors to see me in?

It doesnt matter. I enjoy the smell of it the sound of it, doors and windows full open.

I only wish the thunder were closer, the mornings lightening richer. A little storm after a heat wave, is always welcome.

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