The storm is coming. For a late coming summer, it sounds like late August.
Rumblings from the heavens. Not loud, more of a series of cosmic grumbles. But you knew it would rain.
And rain it does.
By noon it is coming down in torrents. Pounding on the back deck and echoing through the slanted kitchen window, the only opening in the house.
It's dark, turn on the lights.
And listen to the rains pour.
It doesn't last, maybe fifteen twenty minutes.
And then the rains settled into a steady drip. The dripping, though, lasts longer than the rain, as the roof has to slowly shed its water coat.
In the dwindling noise, the bugs start up again. Opportunists? Thinking it's night? "Hey- baby, that loser over there has all his pheromones washed out. Come smell mine..."
Later, evening comes with a roar. The bugs of August create a steady racket.
It's a hour to midnight. The Emmys managed to end on time, where the Tonys did not this year, and the lazy buzzing drone of the bugs of August has settled into a comforting restful blur.
It is still in the mid-70s outside, after a humid day which pushed towards 90.
Late summer in West Michigan. A calm before the school year starts up. And the cold winds of winter roll down from Canada.
Pines in the front turnaround, still wet two hours after the rains. Increasing saturation and contrast. (Click on photo for larger.)
©2014 Dr. Philip Edward Kaldon (All Rights Reserved)
PS -- Kalamazoo hit 92°F. First 90s since 9-11-2013, 384 days ago. Grand Rapids was 88°F, they're still counting.