For the past few days, we in the environs of the District They
Call Columbia have been treated to late afternoon/evening thunderstorms.
That’s not really so unusual—it is summer, after all. (I don't understand why the absolute gullywashers we get around here don't seem to wash any of the dirt off my car, though.) But these
have been fairly consistently
skies-open-up-and-dump-all-the-water-in-the-universe-on-you jobbers. (I’m glad I
drilled holes in the bases of my plastic planters; else my dwarf citrus,
Norfolk Island Pine and gardenia would have to take up swimming.)
Yesterday at 1500, the sky got so dark here in the People’s
Republic that some fireflies came out. They ordinarily appear right around
dusk, so they must have been pretty confused.
Just like the rest of us.
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