In The Sunlight Of Thunderstorms

I keep getting phone calls complaining about the rain.

It is only happening out here. Every afternoon and evening thunderstorms have been rolling through. The world is wet and steamy.

The roadside vegetable garden is responding and setting fine produce.

I have harvested green beans, cucumbers, a few banana peppers, the first ripe tomato and yellow and scalloped squash.

I wander into wet gardens in between showers rather exhausted, at barely an amble.

In town it is another matter. There hasn't been that much rain. The gardens I tend are all on the dry side. It is only raining out here every day. 

It is lush and starting to bloom in the sunlight between thunderstorms.

I liked the final resting place of Reason. I did not like the contrast between wild rocks and cut marble stone in the view from above. More betta. Reason got a chapeau of moss to blend in. No need to wait for the moss to find reason. I got plenty moss in all this wet. Rest in peace my friend.

I work all day in the hot steam, dripping.

And come home to passing showers too tired to move much further. It works out perfect. The wild cultivated garden is doing just fine without me. I take editing notes for a time when movement beyond an amble returns.