It would rain

Despite the lack of rain for the past few days I recently expereienced a sense memory:

At my home-home (not to be confused with my Toronto-home) on summer afternoons the feeling of coming rain would creep in through the open windows and fill the air in the entire house. It was the feeling of a release, a letting up of pressure you had been previously unaware was there. Shortly after this the rain would start, softly at first then becoming more urgent. Mom, from the garden usually, would call out instructions to close all the windows. Every window in every room would then be closed, by whoever was home. If we were too slow, or the waer came too quickly, rain would splash through the window screens, pooling on the sills. The tiles in front of the screen door would frequently fall victim, for some reason the sliding glass door was always the last to be shut. Sometimes this is what the word summer means to me.