The Storm

We took out our dog who loved evening walks. When we went out the back door, she jumped and twirled and squealed with joy. The front door meant people’s business – work, and dinner parties when no one paid attention to her. And everyone kept going from the computer to the magazine stand with the latest business forecasts, which she hated. But the door to the yard was a celebration. That’s the door we used to bring her food and water and the one we utilized for walks and playing with her.

It was mid July. That evening we were both in a bad mood and kept snapping at each other. My companion, Margo, normally cheerful and calm, was irritable. The dog lazily wagged her tail and did not let it fan back and forth as she usually did. The sky was a dense yellow. The grass, wilted from the heat, suddenly turned a poisonous green, and we walked on it as if on Astroturf.

We had barely walked fifty feet when there was a clap of thunder. But it had been thundering since morning and we had stopped paying attention to it. The rain evaporated before reaching the ground. The heat of the last few days had been unusual for New England – up to 100 degrees. Now the air was heavy, humid. The swallows flew close to the ground, catching the last remaining mosquitoes. Tiny bugs kept biting us. The crows sowed the newly mowed lawn with their black mantles, cackling incessantly. The gray squirrels hid in their tree trunks, and occasionally the fluffy tail of a tardy baby squirrel would peek through the dark fir branches, causing our dog to take up a hunting pose. Butterflies, black designs on yellow fields as big as three-years-old’s palm, were frightened by our steps.

Once again the thunder made itself known. It was like the sky shuddering, unable to find relief in tears. An hour later, as we returned home, we felt the first drops of rain beading on our bodies, but dying the instant it struck the tarmac. In this weather, we wore only an excuse for clothing – light T-shirts and shorts. But then a cool breeze came, and we felt refreshed. The rain drops cooled everything, even our hot heads. It began to pour in earnest, and we were no longer fighting but laughing. As often happens after a good cry.