Busy tires create wind and surf sounds melding with organ pipe notes of turning engines
Blasting farting jake brake startles
Drizzle hisses softly on leaves and grass, the surrounding sussurus swaddles the world in gauzy noise.
Soft moist light and air create a haze of mist that daubs mystery at the juncture of field and forest.
Night is coming, light changes; slowly the spectrum filters away as the sun drops behind the rain heavy clouds in the the west.
At first everything is washed with gold,
The seedheads of the grass gilding the shadows of the the forest rising behind the edge of the field.
The mist softens it, washing over the gold with its silvery wetness.
As the night darkens the rain solidifies and the gold notes fade away. The city lights illuminate the clouds and rain faintly. Suddenly all the world is depicted in shades of deep green with impenetrable black shadows beyond and beneath.
Is that a sabertooth tiger I see peering out of that shadow back there in the deep place beneath the green wall?
No, only the ghostly form of an owl gliding silently on fuzzy feathers looking for a squirrel out after curfew. It turns, emerging into the magical rain-lit night. As the sky darkens the rain increases slightly, now it is more than a misty drizzle. The fireflies have emerged but hover around the tops of the Queen Anne’s lace that float in the sea of grass like jellyfish riding the tides. Their heads have captured myriad raindrops which catch amplify reflect refract the cold gold-green flashes the night fire-flyers emit.
This faintest of lights illuminates the owl as he lifts one wing slightly. Gently, noiselessly,effortlessly he wafts to the dead branch sticking up from an oak nearby.
I freeze, hardly daring to breathe as I watch him settle perfectly balanced on his perch. He becomes a sharp branch — until he lifts his shoulders suddenly and shakes all his feathers once, emphatically. A shower of tiny droplets momentarily outlines him in mist light. Slowly his feathers drop into their proper places and he disappears once more.
The rain hisses and taps on the world, frogs sing, insects rasp and rattle. Ruby’s collar jingles faintly, a toad hops away panicked by the crunch of my footsteps. He kicks a pebble and I hear the faint click. Time stops. One bird calls a questioning note and the owl replies with a basso “Whoooo.”