The Thunder Mutters
By John Clare
The thunder mutters louder & more loud
With quicker motion hay folks ply the rake
Ready to burst slow sails the pitch black cloud
& all the gang a bigger haycock make
To sit beneath—the woodland winds awake
The drops so large wet all thro' in an hour
A tiney flood runs down the leaning rake
In the sweet hay yet dry the hay folks cower
& some beneath the waggon shun the shower.
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Friday was extremely hot, then extremely stormy -- it was a two-cat-in-the-basement thunderstorm -- and now cooler but very humid. I turned off my computer and did some reading because I was afraid the power would go out and take any work with it. The house also smells really good because we had candles lit in case the lights went out while it was dark from the storm.
We had leftover Chinese food for dinner and watched Burden of Truth afterward, then caught up on Legends of Tomorrow (wedding dresses and bowling for Earth!) and saw part of the weather-delayed Nationals-Braves game (not currently going well for Washington). Here are some of the herons and egrets that we saw at the Patuxent Wildlife Refuge last weekend:
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