The first summer storm

The first summer storm rumbles across the afternoon; it's the kind of thunder that sounds round and friendly like the purring of a cat. For me it's always the first sign of change. A purple-clouded sky hangs heavy like drapery yet somehow the sunlight manages to shine through, soaking everything with a diffused light. Then the rain starts, slowly at first. The raindrops are fat and heavy and go 'splat' on the ground until there are too many of them and everything gets dark and wet. The downpour releases the smells of summer out of the parched ground and makes me think of humid evenings spent on the veranda. And then, just as suddenly as it started, it is over. The clouds pull back, the sun casts afternoon shadows again and all that remains is the drip-drip of raindrops through foliage.