Water poured, trees swayed, leaves fell. I walked out across the yard wet weeds grabbed my legs sending chills. I opened my mouth to catch rain drops and ran my hands through wet hair. The drought has broken, the drenched earth sighed…and I had raspberries for breakfast.
Welcome to Member Monday. Each Monday we’ll feature work by different Writers Forum members. It’s my pleasure to share a piece by the delightful Dale Angel.
It wasn’t unexpected, I heard on the radio it was on its way. In the early morning a gentle whisper moved me to up and open the windows to fresh moist air carrying earthy smells of wet dust. The damp wind swirled lightly across the thirsty dry barren land announcing relief from the relentless sun.
The music began, made of raindrops falling softly on the roof, barely perceptible at first, gathering power from the heavens like an orchestra when all instruments get to share their parts. Thunder pushed the whirling sheer clouds toward the east rolling and shifting shafts of blues and grey weaving and separating lavender wrapped in pale black, coming together to disappear over mountain peaks toward a colorless sky.
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