It was breezy that day, the wind blowing gently out of the northwest. The sky was bluer than it had been. The sheets and sleeping bags were hanging out to dry, and the windows of the tents were open to let the air in.
The storm had missed us the night before, marching to the southeast, throwing great flashes of lightning across the sky. It lit up our tent with flashes of white and filled the air with crashes and long booming rumbling rolling away into the distance.
Although the tent kept us dry, that night the air was hot and damp, and we lay on top of our sleeping bags trying to cool down, waiting for the cool air to follow the storm.
And when the cool air came, we slept hard.