© 2011 Aaron Atkinson

Summer Showers

Almost as fast as the blanket of grey had rolled in, the late morning sun began to shoot slivers of light through thin spots in the clouds. As the sky began to lighten, the leaf-shaking wind slowed its gusting.

Sensing that the squall had ended, a menagerie of neighborhood robins, sparrows, finches and doves emerged from their dry hiding places in the pines and thickets. They sang at they preened on my fence posts, puffing up and shaking off crystalline droplets of summer rain.

In these fleeting moments between rain and the ensuing stifling humidity, I’ve learned to breathe deeply. The lush, moist air chases the artificial air-conditioned breath from my lungs, replacing it with a cool cocktail sweetened by a blossom perfume with a hint of acidic tin leftover from the lightening.

Those breathes, fragrant and subtle are what a clean earth smells like.

A clean earth fresh from it’s shower.


Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *


You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>