Sticky Season

An entry by Baba Manzana about Sticky Season: 

Dark clouds spill acorn sized rain plops and the air is hot and close like dragons breath. Skies bellow and us villagers shelter from loud rain and bright flashes that can splinter the trees. Puddles collect in otherwise dry paths, our river swells and rises. Cisterns and wells overflow and water wheels spin happily, much grain is floured. Boats flow swiftly and our village turns deep green and shoots tall leaves high above our heads. Growing fruits drink their fill and roots are plumped. Warm wind pushes the wet grasses into flowing rivers of green and yellow and buds pop open. Soon the hottest heat will arrive and those swimming holes will be our guardians until the coolness arrives.