"We spread the blankets inside for a carpet, and eat our dinner in there. We put all the other things handy at the back of the cavern. Pretty soon it darkened up and begun to thunder and lighten; so the birds was right about it. Directly it begun to rain, and it rained like all fury, too, and I never seen the wind blow so. It was one of these regular summer storms. It would get so dark that it looked all
blue-black outside, and lovely; and the rain would thrash along by so thick that the trees off a little ways looked dim and spider-webby; and here would come a blast of wind that would bend the trees down and turn up the pale underside of the leaves; and then a perfect
ripper of a gust would follow along and set the branches to tossing their arms as if they was
just wild; and next, when it was just about the bluest and blackest--fst! it was as
bright as glory and you'd have a little glimpse of tree-tops
a-plunging about, away off
yonder in the storm, hundreds of yards further than you could see before;
dark as sin again in a second, and now you'd hear the thunder let go with an awful crash and then go
rumbling, grumbling, tumbling down the sky towards
the under side of the world, like rolling empty barrels down stairs, where it's long stairs and they bounce a good deal, you know."
Nice, KatieClove!
Wow. What a great passage. It takes me back to nights spent on the Appalachian trail, watching a summer storm from a shelter warm and dry in my down bag.
Thanks for posting the quote.