Lovely, lyrical description. Waiting for the autumn rains out here beyond the dry line, still having to water the lawn in October. When we get 'em this year, it will probably be snow.
Fond memories of the three o'clock thunderstorms that dried off and cleared off to starry nights after a Colorado sunset, and driving through a cloud as you went over a pass. Fonder images of Pikes Peak hiding coyly under a puff of cloudbank going, "Mountain? What mountain?" And the definitely unlyrical memories of trying to navigate across Central Texas in the middle of what my Texan calls a 'frog-strangler' downpour and getting fully conversant with the meaning of the phrase "Lord willing and the creek don't rise..."
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Waiting for the autumn rains out here beyond the dry line, still having to water the lawn in October. When we get 'em this year, it will probably be snow.
Fond memories of the three o'clock thunderstorms that dried off and cleared off to starry nights after a Colorado sunset, and driving through a cloud as you went over a pass. Fonder images of Pikes Peak hiding coyly under a puff of cloudbank going, "Mountain? What mountain?" And the definitely unlyrical memories of trying to navigate across Central Texas in the middle of what my Texan calls a 'frog-strangler' downpour and getting fully conversant with the meaning of the phrase "Lord willing and the creek don't rise..."
Always loved that bit in Poor Felicity.