The smell of the wet earth and the trees is amazing. The cool breeze brings it inside and we sigh. The rain comes down still. Window panes sprinkled, a blur, beautiful.
The creek is swollen, gushing by, a month ago it was dry. Ducks sit on fence posts, the water too fast.
Green frogs, croaking and hopping in the night.
Lilly Pilly berries stung by flies, spoiled, imperfect.
Sunday in the rain.