Thunderous

Waking to thunder crashing, breaking through the open window, rattling the blinds still closed to the morning light. We might expect a thunderstorm to roll through an evening hour this time of year, but first thing in the morning is surprising. An hour later, rolling up the street, onto the dirt where tracks were more marked, a little moisture having painted the surface crust sometime earlier. Perhaps it was that earlier moisture that cause the buckwheat to rust a deeper shade of red. The petrichor (a nod to Larry for that word of the day) wafting a little heavier in the humidity, born on a breeze that rattled loose dry leaves from Rhus and others of the larger tree-like shrubs. Unlike a season earlier, when the fragrance of sage might fill the air, i could pull no single scent from the surroundings, the aroma indistinct, yet rich at the same time. The spread of monsoon clouds increased with the passing of each quarter mile, whatever currents of air existed up there forming ripples and waves, valleys and eddies across their grey surface. No foresight predicted waking to thunder crashing, breaking the dawn, unleashing a morning of surprise.

happy weekend everyone - maybe i'll see you at the races in another couple hours.