Rainstorm

Somewhere in the distance, there's a car alarm that was activated by the rain which hasn't switched off yet.

I don't remember a storm this bad since I was a boy. My parents had put together a playground set in the backyard -- swingset, slide, a teeter-totter that spun instead of teeter-tottering. They had dug a gigantic pit in the backyard for this playground set, and when this storm happened, my parents and I watched as the pit filled with water over the course of days. Our playground set was now submerged in 6 to 9 inches of water. When the storm finally ended, we had a muddy pool in our backyard. My father, on the following weekend, rented a pump to bilge the water out. We removed the playground set a few years afterward, and placed a aluminum pool there for a summer. Over the years, the pit has filled in, grass has taken root, and you can barely tell what used to be there.

It's interesting to go into the backyard that I grew up in -- it seems both smaller and larger, if such a thing is possible. The trees have all certainly grown, small saplings that I remember being planted as a boy now are these immense full-size trees that seem to think that the sky is the limit. All the strawberry plants are gone now, and we've lost a few rosebushes. There is a larger variety of plants in the backyard than I remember, and their diversity amazes me.