The storm grew intense nearing midnight, and has now continued for nearly five hours. There have been a few downpours, and a few periods of gusty wind, but mostly there has been the constant drip of water through the still night, the constant play of lightning above the clouds, and the constant rumble of distant thunder. The sky flickers, occasionally emitting a brighter burst of light which reveals the rumpled details of the clouds. The dark silhouettes of the trees grow even darker. The thunder is like the purring of a giant cat. It is all quite splendid, and strangely restful. I've never seen a storm quite like this one, nor one that continued for such a long time. Even now, I see the light flashing in the sky, and feel as well as hear the vibration of the thunder. It would be unwise to keep the computer on longer, and I would like to go back outside and enjoy the scene in any case. More storms such as this would be welcome. Yes.
Lulled to sleep by the distant thunder, I woke to a gray afternoon. The ground was still damp, and the birds happily pecked about on the lawn. Gradually, a few patches of blue appeared in the sky, and the sun emerged to make the freshly cleaned dark greens of waning summer glisten. With this single night of rain, the moss on the mulberry tree has sprung back thick and luxuriant. By evening, the sky was mostly clear, with a handful of gold and silver clouds drifting above the shadowed woodlands and dampened arroyos where the frogs croaked their delight. It has remained blessedly cool, at least twenty degrees below the seasonal norm. I'm enjoying it while I can. We will return to the sweltering temperatures by tomorrow. But this evening, Sluggo remained stable for almost a full hour! I don't know if this was a premature day from next autumn, or one delayed from last spring, but I am grateful for the mix up in the booking. It was just what I needed in the midst of the most hellish summer in a decade.