Drumbeats on the tin roof. I pull back the curtains and study the sky. Dark clouds everywhere and pin-straight lines of rain falling through the leaves of the apple tree beside the house. Two crows swoop from the neigbbour's roof and into our backyard. The washing’s soaked. Overhead the drumming gets heavier and louder until just like that it eases to a tip-toeing then silence. The sky’s an empty white. In the space beyond the window, a large insect appears. Gliding like a small helicopter between the dripping branches it seems to be looking for a place to land. There are no other creatures here except that insect and me. I watch it hovering and then settle its feet on a leaf.
Feels like peace.
2 comments:
At the tail-end of this very long hot Canadian summer there's nothing I'd like more than a winter afternoon. Thanks for reminding me that such a thing exists.
and for capturing mine, so settlingly.
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