Last night brought us the first storm of the new season. I was outside and watched its approach. It was magnificent, Wagnerian. You could feel the barometer drop. Distant thunder. The sky grew dark instantaneously. A flash of lightning. A wind sounded its approach for seconds before bending the tops of my neighbors' evergreens. Closer thunder, closer lightning. Then there was the rain, so much rain that from indoor windows, it felt as if you were looking at an aquarium or better, inside a touchless carwash. The storm's sudden violence put me in mind of Cossacks riding across the steppes, wreaking havoc and quickly leaving. I'm sure that comparison is extremely presumptious, but there you have it. The sad part of the storm is that it stripped the pear tree by my window of all its blossoms. They only bloomed on Wednesday and lasted far too short a time.
It is amazing how a change in weather brings on a change of mood. It is colder today and there is a knife of regret in my belly that wasn't there yesterday. I will let it sit for awhile and work its way through my system. Perhaps tomorrow we can talk about my childhood again.