Late afternoon.
Liz took Jill out on the hills for a run. Border Collies have to run and Jill is no exception.
It had rained off and on all day, with a few gusty winds thrown in to blow it around.
Not much of a deal though.
Sitting in my Sunday chair when something caught my eye. Not a Bald Eagle flashing past the big living room windows, as often happens.
Not a starling headed for the rooftop.
No, a wall of darkness, flying at us as if to tumble Hogwarts. And rain, a devil's downpour, blown horizontal by a gale.
The sky went from meh to mighty in the space of a second.
I have to watch storms. Cannot sit in my chair and ignore them. I have to look.
Yesterday I REALLY had to look as one of my favorite folks and a much loved pup were out on the hill in it. Mother worry overload.
Seemed like a long time before I saw them from my perch on the stair landing where I can see out over the barnyards and the road down from the fields. I ran for towels and put up the baby gate that confines wet pups to the kitchen.
Liz came in laughing at the storm. Jill came in soaked and covered with burdocks.
Some toweling and grooming later all were fine. Wish you could see Liz's photos and videos of the incoming storm and outbounding dog. The storm was malevolence personified. The dog was hilarious, leaping into every pool and puddle at a dead run, flipping, flopping, and then flying out again to tear in circles so fast she could barely keep up with her feet.
Me, I just settled back in my chair, grateful that they were both all right.
And went to bed early to pull up the covers and shut out the sounds of the raging wild winds.
What a night
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3 comments:
" . . . . malevolence personified . . . " Saw all that footage of those storms in the southeast this morning. Can't imagine standing outside the rubble that was once "home" and trying to think where you'd lay your head that night for sleep. Virus and storms. Are we having fun yet? (Sorry to go dark . . it's just such so crappy right now . . maybe another cup of coffee will help). Hugs to all of you as we stumble on into a brighter tomorrow . . . uh . . no . . wait . . . It's going down to 23' here . . . gotta cover my tender plants. Be well dear friend.
I love reading your posts. You are a wonderful writer...my mind's eye can see everything you write. I'm glad your loved ones were okay. It froze here three nights in a row...killed the onions. Now the onion farmers have to start all over. Not us...but those who raise onions. Sometimes I very hard being a farmer.
Cathy, hope your plants made it all right. It is certainly okay to be dark. These are dark and difficult times and we are only human. I am feeling pretty dark as well. Everything is turned upside down and the people who are giving directions clearly don't know what to do either. I am grateful for good family and friends and for technology that keep them close. As to the tornadoes we have often thought of moving south to get away from NY taxes and politics. However, if we ever do so, I am surely going to insist on some mountains and a storm cellar! Yowsa! Stay safe and well, and thanks for keeping in touch.
Linda, thank you so much. You are very kind. Sorry about the freezing. Seems a lot of folks a bit farther into spring than we are here in the north are getting late, miserable frosts. Still common to have frosty nights here, but it seems as if it is a little extra cold as well. Take care, and keep in touch, thanks
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