Woke up. Got out of bed. Went outside to see the sky. It was cloudy with flashing lights. A storm has brewed and is heading my way. There was lightning, but no thunder. Weird. Now it’s raining. That’s good. I’d still like a bit of thunder. It’s oddly disconcerting to see flashes of lightning without it. I suppose sooner or later we’ll get some window rattling booms. The rain is intensifying. I can hear it on the roof, and just now came a clap of thunder. The storm is here.

A quick check outside tells me my front gutter is full of leaves at the drain because the rain is overtopping the gutter all along the front of the house. Maybe I’ll clean it Sunday. I also checked the attic where a recent leak was detected, but it’s still dry. I suppose it needs a harder wind to drive the rain up the carport roof. It’s nice to stand on the porch and watch the falling water festivities. Sometimes, when the wind is fierce and driving a hard rain, porch standing is impossible.

And just like that, in the space of three paragraphs, the rain has lightened and is moving off. I bet we have less than a half inch in the rain gauge. But a half inch of rain is a half a gallon of water per square foot and that feels like a fair amount, especially since it fell in the dark of an early morning and will be able to get underground before the sun discovers it’s around and calls it back into the heavens, because the sun is not one to let water sit idly by. And now it’s done, and so am I.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale