*Hi everybody! Всем привет! Hola a todos! Bonjour à tous! Hallo allerseits! Поздрав свима!*

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13 07 2 0 2 5 **July Thunderstorms**

*"no preamble"* — someone

July is not the typical season for thunderstorms in our region. Normally, they roll through in late spring—May, sometimes early June—stirring the skies, watering the land, and disappearing almost as quickly as they arrived. But this year, nature had different plans. It waited until the height of summer to deliver its spectacle of sound and light. That day had been one of those idyllic July afternoons that stretch on forever. The air was warm but not oppressive, the trees rustled lazily in the breeze, and the sky was painted in the soft blue hues of a postcard. We were staying at a charming little country mini-hotel with a garden shaded by apple trees and grapevines. As evening approached, we gathered outdoors under hanging lanterns for dinner. There were fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and zucchini straight from the garden, seasoned with herbs and drizzled with olive oil. Someone brought out a bottle of chilled white wine—crisp, aromatic, the kind that makes you lean back in your chair and smile at nothing in particular. The conversation flowed easily. Someone picked up a guitar and began strumming softly. Familiar melodies filled the air, and we all sang along, quietly at first, then louder, carefree.
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By the time the last song ended and the guitar was gently set aside, the stars had taken over the sky. One by one, our friends and guests drifted away—back to their rooms, their cars, their lives. But we stayed. The night was too beautiful to leave behind. On a spontaneous whim, we decided to sleep outdoors, right there in the garden. We set up a small tent under the walnut tree, laid out sleeping bags, and crawled in, still tasting wine and laughter on our lips.
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The forecast had promised a calm night. No wind, no rain—just peace.
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But around 3 a.m., the world changed. A distant rumble rolled across the valley like a warning. Then a second. Within minutes, flashes of lightning began to split the sky, illuminating the garden in flickers of white and violet. The thunder followed quickly behind, louder now, echoing off the nearby hills.
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The storm had arrived—unexpected, wild, and full of energy. Rain began to patter against the tent, gently at first, then harder, until it was drumming like fingers on a table. We huddled together inside, listening, wide-eyed and grinning. It wasn’t frightening—it was exhilarating. There’s something magical about being caught in a summer storm with nothing between you and the elements but a thin layer of canvas. You feel small, but in the best way. Like you’re part of something greater.
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By morning, the storm was gone. The sun rose over a freshly washed world, and everything smelled alive. The garden shimmered with dew, and we brewed coffee under the still-dripping tree, hearts full and grateful—for nature’s surprise and for the unforgettable July thunderstorm.
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That,s all for today

Stand by https://images.hive.blog/0x0/https://images.hive.blog/DQmfXVDrjFhc733t5tmFYRSf9mZZnJWDw8swAcxxg58Da1q/DQmPWWJcKSsQbBiPea3b7ZDe8N5x8D6nr51Ppu5SYnDbdde.gif
Sincerely yours ![image.png](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmdkC7D6LQSWLoW9JmqfgZgdSqAZLMpECkKP9PMnKnuWqc/image.png)

... #palnet #blog