“You’ve heard of crocodile tears, right?” she asked him.
They were sitting in her truck, which was parked at the top of the lake’s grassy embankment. The headlights were on low, beaming across the water, where raindrops merged into the eye-shine of alligators.
“Because this is alligator rain.”
“Alligator… rain? Why? Because it’s thick and heavy?”
She grinned but shook her head. “Nope. It’s because the rolling thunder sounds like a gator bellow…” She gestured toward the water. “… and if you listen really carefully, the alligators will answer the thunder.”
“That’s beautiful… he said. “Beautiful and strange.”