Thunderstorm

The clouds had been huddling/conferring throughout the afternoon. The air remained calm but grew incrementally dense and dim. One could feel portents in the hair on the arms and the nape of the neck.

I sat down at my desk to accomplish (hah!) a bit o’ work. All the doors and windows in my home were wide open...as they’d been all week...
a week redolent of summer’s absolute perfection.

Thunder growled in the distance. Thunder boomed just a few steps from my welcoming door.

The rains came. The windows remained agape for (curiously) there was very little bombast from Aeolus as the clouds beat their breasts and doused the parched earth.

I could hear it all, feel it all, regale in the multi-media experience.

And then an aroma ascended from the earth. The perfume of humus and foliage welcoming the rain. It’s a familiar fragrance, every bit as magical as it was that first day, in my infancy, at my first wide-eyed encounter...my primal, initial exhilarating inhalation.

I can’t describe it. I won’t even try.

It’s the aroma of life and joy and hope everlasting.

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