It was a sopping-wet morning we woke to today. And last night Jackie and Jillie outdid themselves in defiant courage in an exhibition of truly heroic dimensions. We were treated to a sound-and-light show that was quite extraordinary. The confluence of an overheated atmosphere and  high humidity leading to a violent thunderstorm of interesting dimensions. It spoke loud and clear, waking us up at 4:00 in the morning.

An anticipatory frisson is what we experience hearing the introductory rumbles. It's something we would hate to sleep through, preferring to hear all those heavenly complaints, and awaiting each thunderous clap to introduce its accompanying sheet of lightning. Our pups aren't quite as blase and clinical about such events as we are. They're clearly disturbed, taking ti all quite personally, but not unreasonable about it.

They growl their disapproval of any force of nature that threatens the pacific aura of quiet sleep. When said growls fail to accomplish their intent of cowing the rude visitor, they revert to louder admonishments and begin barking their sharp disapproval. That the thunder and lightning simply ignore them is quite infuriating, leading Jackie and Jillie to increase the verbosity and volume of their chiding forbidding the gods of weather to continue their irritating interruption of sleep.

To no avail, since for every increased decibel of outraged barking, the thunder roiling the night-time sky approaches closer and becomes far more thunderously intrusive. What thrills us about all the drama involved in the monumental claps and resulting lightbursts obviously fails to favourably impress our little dogs. And then, finally, the lively and vibrant orchestral poetry comes to a stop, while the sound of a heavy downpour takes its place. Necessitating that someone arise to shut the windows.

And so, little wonder what awaited us a few hours later was a drowned landscape. A dark landscape, becoming even darker as we entered the woods where a dusky twilight awaited us. But then our eyes adjust and what we see surrounding us is a landscape drenched with deep colour, a palette denser than the shades we're generally accustomed to viewing. Hard to say what's more preferential. But of course while we're out there and the clouds keep scudding by, we're also hoping those clouds will decide they've released sufficient moisture for a day.

And speaking of sound and light, we were treated to someone else's experience of last night. A friend walking with his Rottweiler Rex, with whom the first exchange is a discussion marvelling over the intemperancy of the thunderstorm of the night before. But before that thunderstorm erupted our friend hours earlier had driven over to a site in Gatineau. Where he and his companion parked their vehicle, turned on their radio, and listened to the performance of a popular band they favour and whose singer they are ecstatic over.

Why drive to Gatineau, park, turn on a radio and listen to a program when they could do all that comfortably at home? Well, it was a coordinated event. For which they paid $70 to enjoy the privilege of witnessing the band on a bandstand, while admirers were parked below. There were no loudspeakers to carry and amplify sound, and since everyone had parked a good measure apart from one another sitting in their vehicles, the sound the band made was too faint to be appreciated, requiring the boost that the radio supplied, where a local station was playing the event live.

A somewhat different kind of performance, imaginative in its presentation. Which our friend and his friend abundantly enjoyed in this age of COVID isolation.