rejectomorph | (no subject)

In the night, I hear the sprinklers in the orchard. Aside from the chunk-chunk-chunk sound they make, I could imagine that I am listening to rainfall. The water rustles the leaves and drips to the grass that spreads beneath the trees. I picture it being cool there, and full of small creatures. There must be snails and earthworms, spiders on webs jeweled with water droplets. Undoubtedly there are moles and gophers, field mice and rats, and perhaps a toad or two, and some slithering snakes. The raccoons might pass through, as well. Once, a few years ago, there might have been foxes, but I don't think they come around anymore.

The damp and earthy scent floats through the night on the soft breeze, making the warm air seem cooler. The late rising moon is too dim now to illuminate the scene at this distance, but I listen to the artificial rain out there in the darkness. It almost makes up for the absence of a nearby stream to listen to in this dry year, and provides a pleasant reminder of the greatly anticipated real rains that will come in a few months- we hope.