Breezy and cool, with the smell of smoke a bit diminished. The patter of rain. Three yellow walnut leaves flutter to the ground together. A rumble of thunder.
thunder
Fog full of birdsong. I look up from the page to a rumble of thunder that makes the windows shake.
The sky never gets fully light before thunder starts to rumble. Now it’s getting dark again. The birds fall silent.
The tulip trees have burst their buds—a gray-green haze. Hermit thrush in my left ear, thunder in my right.