Even as the first drops of rain began to fall I was racing around the house from window to window, sliding them as wide as they would open to the rapidly cooling outdoor air.
After four days of sweltering heat and unrelenting sunny skies, the upper floors of the house has slowly heated sauna-like temperatures and no amount of air circualtion by our sad little fans would slow the climbing temperatures.
But hope appeared as a dark grey smudge on the western horizon shortly after dinner, and within an hour that smudge had defined itself as a ridge of storm clouds sweeping across the prairies towards the city.
Salvation was coming in the form of a thunderstorm. The rain spit down with a pitiful few drops at first, but within fifteen minutes the outdoor air temperature had dropped from the low 30s into the low 20s, and cracks of thunder were shaking the house sending the dog into fits of terror.
But I was opening all the windows, puddles forming on the inner sils be damned, and begging that rain cooled air to flush through the house and wash away some of the heat now baking itself into the walls and furniture.
I flung open the front door, the back window screens already begging for a cross current, and stood there feeling the gush of, what was that, maybe even a slight chill slip across my sweaty skin and a welcome reverie of how refreshing that night’s sleep was going to feel traced in waves across my heat addled brain.
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