Sunday afternoon. A hot oppressive day. The air does not move. The sky is uniformly gray.

Darker clouds move in from the west. Trees begin to stir. Distant boomers rumble.

The rain begins lightly. There are no lightning bolts, only flashes behind the clouds. The power blinks off but returns before I can say "y2k". I watch through my deck door. The rain is now thick and fast. The wind blows it sideways and bends the trees. Small branches go scattering.

In 25 minutes it is over. The weather-front has moved past. The temperature has dropped 15 degrees. Streets glisten. The sky remains cloudy. Radio says more to come.

It was fun to watch this show from the safety of my bright, dry, A/C'd house. Nary a shingle loose. Nary a drip from the well-sealed skylights.

I crack a beer. I phone for pizza. I remotely zap on the TV.

What, me worry?

-- Lars (larsguy@yahoo.com), July 08, 2001

Answers

and it don't snow in Minneapolis in the wintertime

-- Lars (larsguy@yahoo.com), July 08, 2001.

And there's no such thing as make believe.
No puppy dogs. No autumn leaves.
No nursery rhymes.

-- Miserable SOB (misery@misery.com), July 09, 2001.