My temperature has dropped like a rock. I’ve been sitting on the porch for an hour. Pretty lighting and invigorating thunder. No rain. No petrichor. But the burnt earth laced with dry cactus and sage is interesting. It’s not the santa snna, but it isn’t wholly different. Oh, I’m feeling the tiniest pinpoint drops of rain. And I can hear a tiny bit of rain on the roof. It’s hot. I’m going inside. I hope the clouds open up and pour rain down on us for hours.