The rain soaked soil of our home

rainsoaked path

The storm came from the south-west, big dark clouds presaged by sudden gusts of wind. Then the rain came down, hard. Thunder boomed overhead like cannons at the start of battle. I opened the doors, wide, loving the flinty smell of the thunderstorm.

Nermal cat walked through the open door for a quick visit, and dashed under the dining room table. He’s terrified of thunder. (Note to self: when in doubt, always dash under the table. It’s safer that way and if the sky falls from above then I’ll be ok.)

Spent, the storm moved north, the thunder echoing in the distance, the booming lessening as it moved further away.

As Nermal cat ventured out from under the dining room table the smell of wet soil from the garden floated in through the open door. I closed my eyes and took a deep deep breath, glad that I’d left the doors and windows open, just so that smell would come into our home and bless it with its richness.


Image attribution as per watermark.


WordPress daily writing prompt is “Free Association“. Write down the first words that comes to mind when we say: . . . home. . . soil.. . . rain. Use those words in the title of your post.