Summer thunderstorms marking the end of hotheadedness and cool drinks and playing invented card games on friend’s porches.
Enter the task of curling up on damp couches, raincoats and badass umbrella patterns, getting your feet wet! no sandals, just boots, or barefoot, whatever suits you, just like rain, melancholia and nostalgia, your favourite rain sweater.
Then, counting seconds after lightning and laughing nervously at the sound of thunder, explaining to children “That’s Saint Peter playing bowling in the clouds”, and staying indoors, looking at the window, counting seconds after lightning, counting seconds after lightning, counting seconds after lightning, there it is!, one, two, three, four, thunder, quoting good ol’ bald Billy, try to understand, that when I can, I will.
