Last night summer rolled in, too hot too fast.
This morning a wicked thunderstorm breaks the Brooklyn sky.
This morning a wicked thunderstorm breaks the Brooklyn sky. It sounds like the apocalypse as if the gods are at war behind the purple cloudscape, a lightning show like no other dancing silhouettes behind the curtain. It’s something you just have to see.
The rain splatters on the rooftops, and the birds chirping nearby almost makes it feel like somewhere else. A foghorn in the distance and then loud cracks of thunder … it doesn’t sound like a city at all.