It was glorious, wasn’t it? Around 9:30 last night the wind began to blow. The enormous ailanthus out back swirled like a hippie chick grooving under the influence. She threw her flowers all over my back 40. Then the rain, spattering at first then coming down in sheets, scouring the filthy humidity out of the air. It was very Midwestern: after a long hot day, the thunder ripped up the hemisphere of sky.
My tomatoes came down in the storm, and this morning I staked them up. I brought home some leftover peonies from my CSA distribution work shift last night that were much wilted by the heat. By this morning they had much revived in water. I’d wager we’ve all revived. Now, the pink bundles of flowers look like Victorian lingerie, layer upon layer of crinoline. No wonder the Japanese think they’re hot.