june twenty something. maybe july.

I hear it first.

From the upstairs window,
a kind of cold rushing creeps through the house and I move downstairs to the kitchen, as the rain begins. Slowly at first. Settling in like a thick damp blanket of grey, just touching the skin.

The strawberries are in a cardboard-foam box. I take them from the refrigerator, place them in the steel sink bottom, and switch on the faucet. Watch the water run over.
Rivulets forming glassy veins. Entwining ruby heartbeats.

Outside, raindrops are beading onto blades of grass. Collecting and sliding down. Tense and alert with the chill of the shower. The faucet squeaks off.
I lift the container to the countertop, and tip it on its side. Spilling berries across black granite. Jumbling and bumping like round red acrobats turning tricks.

Water is accumulating on the trees now. Gathering and dropping off the leaves. Dripping droplets below.

I balance my hand flat over the fruit, palm down, just resting against slick skin, and rotate my hand in slow wide circles. Berries revolve and roll underneath. Tumbling fat red somersaults.

Silver worms shiver down the window pane. Drops tapping down hard from the ledge above the window. Puddles forming on the porch.
I scoop the berries up in hand and walk to the door.

Step out of my slippers and into the downpour.

The rain is falling loud and heavy now. Hurtling from the sky with a kind of ferocity. Grass making stringy wet curtains around my feet, blades bent over in submission with the force of the assault. And I can hardly see through it.
The only sound is rushing water.

Beneath the maple at the south end of the yard is a patch of dirt, where only a few green hairs live out of sight of the sun. The earth here is saturated. Heavy and wet.
My toes sink right in.
Hands tighten with excitement. Feet tensing. Toes clench.

I twist in and down. Around. And again. Squelching. Stomping. Turning. Toes squeezing. Heel driving. Hands gripping.

Stomping and stretching. Mud and Juice. Tighten and release. Tighten,

-release.