Wild Berry Meadow we are not the weight of all our memories.

When more light cascaded across the sky Titmouse stared up at it, pausing in his romp. When the boom followed he let out a garbled screech, something like a yelp, and dove for the cover of Liffey and the wall before she gave any instruction; he wouldn't have heard her anyways, his attention was so focused on the sky. The rain hadn't reached them yet - if it even would - but there was still booming and flashing above them, and it was strange enough to lull the child in to an unnatural disquiet.