Thunder Road: three months in rural Australia

Flowers wilted by the storm

Last night a thunder storm rolled in to the valley. Huge rumbling waves of sound, driving rain and lightening cracking all around. Rain on a tin roof has been a favourite sound for as long as I can remember. My favourite childhood home had a tin roof and I remember well being delighted by the tapping of rain on it. It always brings me back to my brother and sister and I as kids. Last night I wrapped myself in the memory.

The storm has left the already softening flowers tattered and torn. Decay has a beauty that I have always loved. I’ve been listening to a lot of Springsteen out here and can’t help but think of Atlantic City when I look at them.

“Everything dies baby that’s a fact. But maybe everything that dies someday comes back”

I think maybe that’s true and last night, wrapped in that storm, my sister was back with me, for just a little while.

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