It had been an exceptionally arid Autumn.
Arid and cold (insert ex-wife joke here).
The lawn was covered with dead leaves that created a rather interesting gray-brown and burnt orange mosaic visible from the elevated deck.
When the first drops of the light rain began to fall the large drops striking the crisp leaves made a sound not too unlike the finger-snapping one might hear.
If one were surrounded by a crowd of finger-snapping people.
Snapping their fingers slowly, methodically, melodically.
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