A Change of Weather

The dog dances in the downpour, alternating between her own uncontainable excitement and a persistent confusion about why I, her human, have suddenly chosen to abandon my aversion to getting soaking wet.  I can’t explain that I have no choice, having spent the previous hour widening the road; innumerable small trees and branches lay across my exit, and must be moved before I can drive out.  But her joy is like a virus, and soon enough we are both dancing in the downpour, celebrating the rain. 

Late Summer

The edges of leaves dried out and curled; rivers ran thinly over grey stones; brooks dried to damp patches in the fields. Flower petals shook and dried and fell like coloured rain onto the cracking earth. Cow vetch clamoured in the hay fields. Earwigs chewed in the corn.

It was the day in late summer when the weather turns and suddenly there are endings everywhere, despite the bright sunlight. There was a fierce wind that blew all day, dragging the snapping sheets from the laundry lines all the way up and down the Shore Road. The rusty-hinged cries of swinging gates rose on the swirling wind like departing birds.

~from The Clock of Heaven

Shade and Shake

Even though it is early morning, the wind blows a fierce heat through the trees, and dry leaves rattle on thin branches.  We keep to the shady paths, the dogs detouring to the ponds and throwing themselves in.  They swim with both exuberance and desperation.  They come back dripping, and I wait for them to shake and shower me with cool relief.