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... or, Why I Need to Find the Dustpan and Brush Now, or, Great Oaks from Little Acorns Grow, But Not on My Porch, Please.
On Thursday afternoon, a little before half past three, I was sitting in my living room, listening to a ball game and watching the sky darken, wondering whether my team (playing at home) would finish off its opponent before the rain started. The wind picked up first, as it does, lifting the branches of the oak next door and flipping the leaves on the jungle of ivy, maple saplings, mulberry bushes and random weed trees beneath it. It was a pretty stiff breeze, but nothing unusual. Lightning lit the clouds a ways off, judging by the delay between the flash and the thunder.
And there was nothing unusual, either, in the tappity-tap-tap-tap of rain that began to fall a few minutes later. I was curious about the occasional interspersed tick, though, and went to the window to squint out. We don't see much hail around here, but sure enough, the odd pea-sized chunk of ice bounced off the panes and onto the porch.
No, wait, make that blueberry-sized.
Quarter-sized?
And then Mother Nature gathered the entire storm into her palm and slammed it against my house.
( Read more... )
On Thursday afternoon, a little before half past three, I was sitting in my living room, listening to a ball game and watching the sky darken, wondering whether my team (playing at home) would finish off its opponent before the rain started. The wind picked up first, as it does, lifting the branches of the oak next door and flipping the leaves on the jungle of ivy, maple saplings, mulberry bushes and random weed trees beneath it. It was a pretty stiff breeze, but nothing unusual. Lightning lit the clouds a ways off, judging by the delay between the flash and the thunder.
And there was nothing unusual, either, in the tappity-tap-tap-tap of rain that began to fall a few minutes later. I was curious about the occasional interspersed tick, though, and went to the window to squint out. We don't see much hail around here, but sure enough, the odd pea-sized chunk of ice bounced off the panes and onto the porch.
No, wait, make that blueberry-sized.
Quarter-sized?
And then Mother Nature gathered the entire storm into her palm and slammed it against my house.
( Read more... )