What is so rare as a thunderstorm in August? Good food under those golden arches? Maybe not.

Poet Jonathan Goldman wrote in 2003:

Storm clouds do not pictures make,

But blacken the skies and makes us wake¹…

Here in 2016, we were praying for rain. Seriously and poetically. The grass was turning brown, and we were mad at those clouds for boycotting the town and raining only on Knox. What had that burgh done to deserve more moisture than we did? Finally, it happened: we exited the Walmart one evening, and the ominous clouds were lowering over the golden arches of Mickey D's. We rejoiced, although Mrs Hoggett opined that the direction of the storm meant that it was raining cats, dogs, and lightning bolts over at the farm, and that she suspected Farmer Hoggett would manage to sleep through it. (Farmer Hoggett was pretty tired.)

Mr Goldman may not like rain, but we're very, very grateful, and so is our garden.

Dmitri Gheorgheni

29.08.16 Front Page

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