Portents

portents sky darkens deeper and deeper turning toward the gloom of pseudo night. silence in the trees leaves batten down their fragility. far out past Christian Island the rumbling, grumbling begins, slowly stalking the land of summer dreams, echoing and emerging into my bay the sky is having a tantrum as a frustrated child stomps about my roof spilling rushes of beating rain. flowered faces once turned toward the sun now droop their heads beneath the watery onslaught. roots quiver with expectation of streams of sustenance renewing the earth, refreshing the air. nature takes care of its own. we shelter as a tortoise in our cabin. peering out disconsolate at having our reverie so thoughtlessly interrupted.