There she sits, the girl of my dreams. Others think she odd and quirky seems. Always lost in books, thought or reverie. Dreaming up the next epic fantasy. Now over her manuscript, asleep in a light doze. Ink smudge on her cute little nose.
Yesterday evening after the rain had seized and the skies cleared. I took an evening walk. Everything was still wet and dripping and low lying areas were filled with a foggy haze. Suddenly I heard music playing loud and coming nearer, happy voices. It turned out to be high school students celebrating graduation. I found myself smiling happily with the heartwarming normality of it all. I so long for the pandemic to be over!
In the sweet pale night Happy voices rise in song Coming of life praise
Early in the afternoon I decided that tabbouleh and halloumi would be dinner. Also I wanted some wine, so I set out to the best fruit and vegetable shop close by, which also happens to be near a Systembolaget (explanation below). After the shopping was done the first raindrops fell. Within a minute, heaven’s doors opened, as the Swedish saying goes, and torrential rain fell. As I was less than a kilometer from home I decided to leg it instead of trying to hide under a tree or overpass. Getting really soaked at least once per summer in a thunderstorm rain, especially when dry clothes and warmth are within reach, is just a part of life. And one of those that makes you feel alive. It was raining hard enough that it was hard to see, and within minutes I was soaked through and through.
Heaven’s doors opened Thundercrack, lightning flash, rain Soaking everything
In Sweden the state has a monopoly on selling alcohol, surprising more than one uninformed tourist. So anything stronger than medium-strong beer has to be sold at Systembolaget that have reduced opening hours compared to other stores that in any other country would have sold wine and spirits.
Read other Haibun’s written for the monthly dVerse prompt by me here.
As the kids celebrated the start of summer holiday with water gun play in the early evening. I decided to do some garden work. Mostly cutting down the by now meter high nettles that happily grow in the compost. In doing so I came under veritable attack by disturbed mosquitoes. So while I might have avoided the nettle sting, I got a dussin or more mosquito bites. If I have to choose, I prefer the itching to the burning. Both are part of summer.
Mosquitoes swarming Seeking a warm body’s blood Just one drop will do