Summer Storm

     The air was thick with summer. Day after day oppressive heat had raged, consumed, overwhelmed, frazzled the mind, sapped the body of energy, while inland countryside seared in a shimmering heat haze, bone-dry, devoid of any moisture. 
     Men sweated profusely inside their yellow suits, felt themselves almost melt as they dedicated themselves to fight out-of-control rampaging bush fires. They struggled against the confronting glow with its all consuming flames and radiant heat, unbearable as the fire front travelled fast and furious, threatening, devastating all in its path. Smoke rose high into the air, as trees, land and homes disappeared in thick choking clouds, billowing into the heavens.
     Roadsides appeared molten, paths of bitumen and concrete cracked, opened up. Beside the park, tall seedy grasses waved back and forth in the heat of a hot north wind. Birds fled to escape the dryness, heat that was intolerable, the atmosphere feeling like a furnace burning wildly, furiously, uncontrollably. 
     Beside the sea, people fried their skin t0 dark pink and red in the intense heat of the day, before sizzling in the cool green sea. Soft golden sand was too hot to walk upon, so the beach people hurried to the water's edge and dipped toes and feet into incoming waves that felt cool. Young boys dived off the end of the pier into water that was a deep green.
     Tess, a black Labrador dog, whimpered close to old George as he sat back in his worn chair and fanned himself. The heat was getting to him and he was not used to discarding many of his clothes, but the last few days he was forced to make an exception. He sat back with his face wet with sweat and uncomfortable.
     There was a sudden rumbling sound in the distance.
     'I know old girl,' he said, a wrinkled, weathered hand reaching down to soft furry ears.  'I think you heard that thunder in the distance as I did. Let's hope a storm is on its way, eh Tess?'
     Inside George's house, darkness was gradually filling the room in the late afternoon. The long hot summer had made its presence known, as everything around them felt hot, the furniture, inside the cupboards, the floors even. Hot water flowed from the cold tap when old George tried to fill Tess's bowl with water. 'The air is so heavy, you could cut it with a knife, George muttered and mumbled to himself, extricating himself from the chair, shuffling to the kitchen sink. 
     Outside, clouds were grey, building up and becoming darker, thick with promising rain. The sun became obscured, its penetrating rays momentarily extinguished, having an immediate effect with the temperature, causing it to drop slightly. On a wall the barometer needle pointed to change, slowly moving toward rain.
     A bright light forked the sky in the distance, lightning danced through the oncoming storm, darker, more threatening. Loud claps of thunder were heard as birds scattered to safety, screeching from the garden, trees swaying with the increasing wind, tossing their heads as dry leaves were torn from the branches.
     'Looks like there'll be a storm alright Tess!' The black Labrador wagged her tail slowly, looking up at George through large brown eyes. She whimpered again, got up, stretched and settled back to try and sleep. 'It's getting closer too, by the sounds of it!' George continued. 'We'd better check a few things and batten down the hatches.'
     George had been a tugboat captain in his day, now retired. He and Tess lived in a cottage style home close to the sea. His wife had died two years earlier and he was alone now with only Tess for company.  George rose from his chair and went to the back door overlooking the small back garden. The black labrador followed close behind thinking they were going out walking. Her tail wagged in expectation.
     'No Tess, not this time. Think its going to rain soon!' George turned and patted the disappointed Tess.
     At that moment a large drop of rain fell on the path near the patio, followed by several more. His small garden was in desperate need of water. It had wilted and drooped in places, looking half dead.
     'Ah, I was right then Tess. Long may it continue,' smiled George, as the rain started in earnest. Suddenly another boom of thunder sounded and old George reached down to comfort Tess.
     'It's alright my Tess, don't you go worrying yourself. We'll be safe inside, but just look at that lovely rain falling!' George was delighted and signaled to Tess to stay put while he wandered out into the path of the rain. He looked up, smiling. 'God bless you,' he said to the rain, for he loved his garden and the plants had been suffering from the heat, which saddened George. Watering sometimes with the hose, was a losing battle, but this rain was heaven-sent. He put his face up to greet the cool drops splashing around him, soaking everything in its path as the heaven's descended, wetting his face, arms and body. It felt good.
     Tess had followed George to the door and sat watching him getting wetter by the moment. She barked and stood wagging her tail as George laughed. With the storm, the wind had changed direction causing the temperature to drop considerably. The cloud burst had dumped plenty of cool rain on dry ground, eucalyptus trees lapping up moisture, the remaining leaves smelling fragrant, as did everything else in its path. Rain had sheeted down in torrents, glistening now on every wilted leaf, glad of its moisture. Thunder and lightning had crackled in the hot windless air. 
     Slowly the storm started to abate, the sun reappeared from the tips of passing clouds, sending fingers of sunlight streaking across the nearby park, a soft glow flickering through branches. The garden became drenched in the aftermath, the half dead plants of George's garden perking up, refreshed. George too, felt cool and refreshed as he ran his well worn fingers through thinning grey hair. The wind was dying as the rain ceased to a gentle pattering upon the roof of the house. He thought he heard the garden signing with satisfaction.
     The air felt clean, cool, rain had soaked, splashed and puddled the ground as birds flew back to an old oak tree, chirping loudly. The wind became quiet as the sun filtered through remaining clouds far to the west. George wandered over to a seat on the small patio, called Tess to him and sat for a while in the early evening sun. The heat had disappeared with the storm and the tranquility of the moment was blissful to both. Summer was coming to an end and with the autumn, came cool nights and warm days, filling the air with coloured beauty that fluttered down, littering the ground. Mists would descend from the hills, summer becoming but a memory, as George would walk with Tess along the sea front, dreaming of tugboats and tall ships.