Morning all. I hope you had a fabulous weekend and are ready to jump into the new week. So writing implements of choice ready and timers set, lets see what this new prompt brings.
Not sure where this is going, but I kind of like the set up. Needs more thought than fifteen minutes cold, but not a bad start to the week.
Monday, August 11th: Thunder shook the glass in the window frames.
Thunder shook the glass in the window frames. As of yet, no rain had fallen. Christie looked out of the window. Despite being only a little past 10 am the sky was shading into night time dark. She watched lightning dance in the clouds and the trees whipping around in the still dry air.
It was a storm, but this storm had yet to gift them with what they needed most.
They needed rain. Christie lost count of how many days, weeks, possibly even months it had been since the last rain fall. The grass bending low against the increasing winds was brown and crisp. It was hay still tethered to the ground. She wondered how it still managed to bend instead of snapping off. She would have thought it was too dry and brittle to take the winds in stride.
‘Maybe because they are so short,’ Christie thought.
All growth was stunted this year. Even the leaves on the trees were smaller than she remembered. While she could never remember looking at them which trees were deeply rooted and which preferred to stay shallow, this year it was self-evident. Those with deep roots were surviving from the well buried ground water below. Anything that required moisture from the surface had died off. She spent much of this hot dry season removing the dead trees if only to attempt to contain the fire hazard.
She watched the lightning dance in the clouds and felt another thunder clap shake the house. If the lightning descended then despite her preparations there could be a fire. If they had rain, the threat might be lessened, but at this point, she knew it would have to be a lot of rain.
She Ignored her mug of tea as she watched the world outside, wondering what the day’s weather would herald. She made the tea more out of comfort for the making. The heat was oppressive and the thought of drinking it wasn’t a priority. Still making it had given her something to do with her hands for a time, something other than the storm to focus on. The cup cooled, unheeded.
Christie jumped as the first drops pelted the window glass. It felt more like small stones being flung at the glass. When she looked however she could see the thrown drops sliding down the dry and dusty glass.
Rain.
It was here.
She tried not to get her hopes up but as the drops multiplied she felt relief start to wash over her. They were getting rain. Not just a few drops, but a deluge. The few pelting drops turned into a sheet. Often when it rained like this in the past she could almost see a lightening of the clouds even as they let fly their moisture. There wasn’t enough in them to sustain the rain for long and it looked like a sponge being rung out. Then the lightened clouds would float off unencumbered. Today there was no lightening. The rain fell ins waves, she could see the wind whipping it about, lashing the tree trunks from all angles before finally reaching the ground.
Lightning still crackled but if the rain kept up, it might not cause a fire. Might not turn the forest into ash. She watched, unable to turn away from the sight. Much of the water ran off of the hard sunbaked ground.
Ten til Midnight 