I need a new notebook. Now that the one I usually use has been surrendered to scrawled shopping lists and appointment reminders it just doesn’t feel quite right anymore. Of course, that may well just be an excuse as to why I haven’t been carving out the time to write more or take photographs lately, I need to make the time.
We had been planning on attending Apple Fest in our neighbourhood this weekend, we have done every year since moving to Chicago. This weekend we all opted to stay home instead, not really feeling up to the bustle and noise of crowded streets. Instead we played together at home on Saturday, only leaving the apartment on Sunday to meet a friend at the park.
On Wednesday evening last week I sat out on our back porch and watched as a thick blanket of cloud was pulled across the sky. The rain fell softly at first, barely distinguishable from the humidity that preceded it. Lightning briefly lit the sky over a neighbourhood to our south and almost at once the rain began to fall harder. A gust of wind pushed it beneath the cover of the upstairs porch to bang and clatter amongst terracotta pots.
There was a particularly loud rumble of thunder. Mikey, both excited and a little frightened, called me inside. Back in the kitchen I filled the electric kettle with water, leaning it precariously over the dish-filled sink, to make us some tea.
The sky darkened. A low rumble, close by, made the walls shudder and the shrill beep beep beep of a car alarm filled the street. Lightning flashed into our living room, reflected in by the windows of the apartments opposite ours. I began to close the kitchen window so that the rain would not flood the ledge, the sounds outside of passing trains and an ambulance siren bounced between the close walls of city buildings. The window closed and the sounds became distant.
With tea made, I bring it to the living room and settle in among the couch cushions. Mikey curls into my hip and we watch cartoons together in the dark.