Summer Rain

This only happens a couple of times every year—the gentle pattering of summer rain on the roof, big bubbles dancing on the sidewalk, my dog thoroughly surprised when I let her out in the yard. Where did that come from?

There’s a quietness, too, about this rain, and no drive behind it—it’s not time to put away the picnic table and chairs, not yet. Everything’s on hold today, hopeful, but August expires tomorrow and the long Labor Day Weekend looms before us, a final three-day spasm for all the activities we didn’t get enough of during summer before school doors abruptly slam, daylight shortens, and we enter the longest, darkest season, football.


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