Massive thunderstorm and a belly full of espresso make for a long night. I always love sitting through thunderstorms, the skys open the clouds split and the full range of sounds cascade down around you.

The dog barks at the storm, poetry or irritant at 1 am? If the dog barks and the storm abates did the dog win, or the storm pass?

The boy sleeps with us tonight, poor little guy, scared of the storm.

%d bloggers like this: