She watched through the window as the rain poured down outside. The little streams that had formed on the gravel road as the rain started falling had long since overflowed, and now the entire road surface was pouring with water. That would need to be fixed later. This kind of rain always did a number on gravel roads, washing away the smaller grains and leaving the surface rocky, uneven and full of holes. But that was a tomorrow problem. For now, she was just watching. Not that the view was particularly clear. The wind was driving the rain right into the window, and large trails of water were pouring down the glass. And as if that wasn’t enough, the rain gutters had started overflowing some time ago, so there was an additional downpour of water rushing down from the edge of the roof. Combined with the thick, driving rain, it made for a rather limited view. The noise of the pouring rain blended into a loud rumble of white noise. Despite the high wind, she barely heard the howl of flowing air over the din of falling rain. It all formed together into an indecipherable melange of sound, only broken up by the clear smattering of the raindrops that struck the window directly. The air inside the house was still and dry, but that very stillness felt almost uncanny in the face of the sheer force of the elements raging just beyond the sheet of glass. The trees were still mostly green outside. It was still August, after all, if only barely. But while the rain was pouring down now, it had been a fairly hot and dry summer. As such, some trees, those more sensitive to drought or those rooted in particularly dry soil, had already started turning to autumn colours and shedding their leaves. Every so often, a fallen leaf would fly past the window, carried by the strong wind despite being soaked through with rain. The grass of the lawn was a shifting patchwork of summer green and dull, dry beige, somewhat darkened from being so thoroughly rain-soaked. All in all, the view outside the window seemed to paint a perfect picture of summer turning to autumn. The sun shone somewhere high above the thick clouds, but the light that made it through the dark mass of the rainstorm was dim. Summer greens and autumn browns and yellows shifted seamlessly into one another. Every so often, an apple on the tree outside was dislodged by the fierce wind, falling to the ground below with a wet thud. But she was not discouraged, because even this was a part of summer. The final part, perhaps, but it was summer nevertheless. And she adored summer. She was wearing more covering clothing than she was used to of late. Because while the wind and the rain was kept at bay, it was an old house, and the chill always crept in on days like this. It wasn’t terribly cold, of course. Despite the intensity of the weather, it was still summer. But she had grown accustomed to sweltering summer heat, and the sudden shift had left her shivering despite the fact that it wasn’t really all that cold. Of course, she was nevertheless nibbling on an ice cream bar as she looked at the drenched landscape outside her window. Because no matter what the weather or temperature might be, it was still summer. And there was no force on this earth that could pry her away from summer ice cream.