Crackles and rustles outside,
Occasional resounding plops,
Continuous dripping in my ears.
Branches kiss the windows,
Globs slip off my bike,
The sun has made its presence known.
I step outside and I’m blinded.
Lawns, plants, and cars are covered
With the brightest white.
Squishing and sloshing
Underneath my heavy boots
As the puddles rise higher.
The contrast between dry and wet
Stands at least 3 feet high
Next to my buried car.IMG_0955