Pleasures

When, deep into night
impossibly bright
lightning strikes

A child might wake
fearfully shake
cowed by the quake

another more rash
might run to the sash
to watch the light slash

that would have been me
until thirty-three
but now I just be

and hold very still
feel air from the sill
now freshly chill

the day had oppressed me
pressured an pressed me
until I must rest me

the night she caressed me
the lightning impressed me
the thunder it blessed me

I listen for more
billowing rumbles galore
and smell petrichor

the corn in the garden
had begged for a pardon
and just received one

the rain is now dousing
rinsing and rousing
my little green loves

the cricket song
all night long
suddenly gone

Hot August Days

When the temperatures rise above the mid 70's F, we make sure our sheep have quality shade in their paddock.
Here I am leading them to a shady pasture on what is expected to be a 90+ degree day: