It’s a balmy evening. The sky is moody. Thunder rumbles in the distance, getting louder, like a ball rolling down a ten-pin bowling lane, a flash of lightning, then back to distant grumbling. When I was little, I was told it was God moving furniture around up there.

The air is perfumed with incense, tendrils of smoke wafting prettily off the stick. And the rain starts to patter down, slowly at first, like it’s just trying out its showerheads.

Birds cheep around the valley and I hear renewed rumbling, storm brewing left and separately from the right, almost indistinguishable from someone moving their wheelie bin on the street. It’s bin night.

The air smells thick with rain, that heady, grassy pavement smell and a slight breeze plays along my bare arms.

The Rolling Stones are singing You Can’t Always Get What You Want when the car arrives at the bottom of the driveway. The engine purrs loudly as it reaches the top. Car door slams. Mick Jagger’s now singing Wild Wild Horses and the sound of rumbling grows louder in the sky. The raindrops have stopped and his footsteps sound on the steps leading up to the house.

It’s getting darker, no sunset spectacle tonight, there is too much dark grey cloud cover. A bird flits past my eyes up towards the ceiling and I swat at a mosquito that’s biting my arm. Cockatoos screech behind the banana palms and make their raucous way across the valley.

The chardonnay tastes sweet and cloying on my tongue and coats the roof of my mouth as I swallow.

I’ve rubbed mozzie repellent on my arms and legs but feel a bite on my neck. The wind picks up and drops twigs on the roof with a clatter. Distant gum trees sway and now the wind is whooshing. Lightning flashes and I look around alarmed to see what could be swept up in the storm – cushions from the bench, the Tibetan prayer flags are flapping crazily.

The rain starts up again and I feel drops splashing my bare legs, my hair is blown into my eyes and the thunder grumbles, the sky flashes as a car drives into the street.

Branches and leaves sway, rain patters louder on the roof and now the wind chimes are tinkling furiously as everything starts to feel a bit dangerous. The air smells more and more like rain as my eyes are blinded by a bright flash. The temperature drops and I shiver, gather my things and head indoors to the still warmth.