When I got up Tuesday morning, the skies were a brilliant, flawless blue with nary a cloud to be seen. I opened all the blinds, let the boys out in the backyard, filled their food bowls, turned on the computer and made a cup of coffee. I suppose those few things took about, I don't know, 10-15 minutes? By the time I was ready to sit down at the laptop, it was no longer sunny and growing darker by the second.
I took my camera out on the back deck, my plan being to get a panorama shot of the rapidly approaching storm. Unfortunately I forgot the last step--to stitch the shots together. And crap, it would have been a really cool picture. Ah well. Use your imagination...
Left, center, right views of the storm (with a bit of overlap):
I don't think I've ever seen an entirely clear sky go from cloudless to storm-filled so quickly--truly in a matter of minutes. When the first wave hit it was intense, violent and awesome...and they've been rolling across the valley in a relentless tide for the past two days. I've nuked two umbrellas whilst walking the boys, washed a huge load of muddy, doggy towels, and been daily--hourly--reminded of the formidable power in our planet.
Because I worked so hard in the gardens over the past month, then did my household Spring cleaning, once the storms came, I found myself with nothing to do.** And what a glorious, exciting, dance-in-the-rain sense of freedom that realization was.
By coincidence (or not), on Tuesday I stumbled across an author I hadn't read. Her first book, in a 4-book series, caught my attention and seemed worth a read, so I downloaded it to the Kindle. Outside it was cold, bucketing rain, the perfect scenario for an adventure to a small town in the Colorado Rockies.
I just got back this morning. It was a great trip--murder, mayhem and mystery. And as the rain is still pelting down here and it's nearly 50 degrees cooler than it was two weeks ago (yes, really, 50 degrees), I'm heading back to Colorado this afternoon. In the second book, it's Spring, the wildflowers are blooming, the sun is warm and shining on the snowcapped mountains, and I have some folks to catch up with.
I'll send postcards...
**The idea of "nothing to do" is, of course, a fallacy. I live in an older house. There's always something to do, and I have to work on the next Scribbles installment, but whatever. At the moment I'm going to ignore everything, and just read. Like Scarlett said, tomorrow's another day...