After 61 days, Perth finally received rain. And thunder. And lightning.
Sadly, my experiments in photographing lightning were a dark failure (as in there was nothing recorded on the memory card by the darkness of the pre-dawn), but I caught the clouds that had been building and building and building in the morning and the afternoon:
Great, blindingly white thunderheads:
and no amount of praying made them halt their slide southwards:
We sweltered through a day that reached 40, and the night was awful – it didn’t go below mid twenties, exacerbated by very high humidity.
At 5.00 in the morning I was woken by a tremendous clap of thunder. And it rained. I went out, with camera, though nothing resulted, but I enjoyed the rain. I opened all the doors and windows and went back to bed. I apparently slept through the next storm, but when I got up and let out her Fat little Self as well, the world was delightfully wet and cool smelling.
And there was proof of rain on a tiny, tiny rose:
then there was another storm and poor Fattee Cattee was nowhere to be seen. It poured briefly. I got deliciously wet and cold, and laughed in the face of lightning and thunder. Later, the garden all refreshed, there were flowers and raindrops. The little rose again, be-gemmed:
raindrops on a magnolia leaf and a blade of lemon grass:
On branches and a leaf of jasmine:
and this one – a rain drop hanging from a withered shoot of a spider plant:
Then the sun came out, the temperature soared and it was dreadfully hot. All the water evaporated, the raindrops vanished and the little rose curled and withered.
But someone else reappeared and curled on the cool bricks in the courtyard, full of purrs:
Later, on my way to work in the mid afternoon, I saw the last of the clouds sliding away to the south as I waited in the traffic on the freeway:
And now, there are only chances of thunderstorms and it remains very hot and humid.
I long for rain, for storms, for Autumn