And it's cool, and bright with dandelions, and soft with violets.
We unload the car, return our portable possessions to their places, and start the washing machine.
We take off our shoes and socks and walk the yard, and we know, between our toes, the familiar comforts of home.
More tired than we expected, we give up on organization and climb the hill in the dusk to watch the thunderstorm approach, the dog shivering against our legs. The apple tree has bloomed while we were gone.
We see the yellow flashes in the south, and we feel the ground quiver. We hear thunder, and peepers, louder than before, and the dryer going, and the dog panting.
So much has changed in just two days, and everything's the same.
The rain begins in the dark. We find it welcoming.
copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved
