Ficly

Desert Summers

The thunder clouds roll in at about two o’clock. They’re dark and menacing, but beautiful. The air takes on a desert smell of Creosote and moisture. It’ll probably be a couple of hours before the storm really gets going, but it’s coming. We all know it’s on its way, and we’re looking forward to it.

The wind picks up and blows the branches of our Palo Verde wildly about until they knock against the roof. Bangs and scrapes of wood against the windows put us into an excited drowsiness. We know that we’ll be inside for awhile, but that there will be all sorts of excitement just outside our door.

We drag the old dusty lawn chairs into the garage, grab an ice-cold beverage, & open the garage door. There we sit, enjoying the first monsoon of Summer.

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