There's a Storm Across the Valley

The clouds have been rolling in.

All day, huge clouds have built up, piling higher and higher....they always reminded me of scooped mashed potatoes on a plate. They drifted slowly in from all sides, eastward from the range close to town, lower, smoother clouds came in slowly across the valley from the west... meandering their way into town, looking harmless, their only purpose to block any view of the last of the meteor showers tonight.

The first sign was a huge bolt of lightening that struck the field just outside from where I am, the clap of thunder shook the walls.

A smart person would unplug everything, cower under the covers and wait for it all to pass.

I keep looking out the window at the lightening play across the sky.

Huge drops of rain started slowly, and are now pouring down, slapping against the windows and walls of the barn. I can look out the window and see a sheet of rain moving across the far end of the valley, a good 30 miles away. This is the West, we need the water, and will take it any way we can get it into our earth.

The truck garden just outside my door won't need watering tomorrow...the irrigation grooves cut into it carry the already heavy downpour back to all of the plants there. Someone came today and picked squash and tomatoes and left me a huge zucchini.

I don't like large zucchini, they scare me.

I've helped myself to the tomatoes growing, fresh, sun ripened tomatoes for lunch and supper have made me a happy person... nothing in the stores or even the vegetable sellers on the streets can top the taste of a tomato you walk out and pick off the vine.

I do love watching the storm as it moves across the fields... the way it flattens out the wheat and hay, covering field by field then going on to the next farm. The corn bends under the onslaught of water, the earth soaks it up to store it deep where it's needed. Trees seem to lift branches up to catch the moisture. The animals stand with their backs to the wind and rain, solidly waiting for it to be over. Only the sheep are confused, turning in circles.

The sound of the water on the tin roof is picking up, the lightening is closer, and it's time I shut this little pc down. It's pouring now, sluicing off the roofs, out of the gutters, hitting so hard it bounces back up again off the hard packed earth.

My only regret is I'm not in bed, drifting off to sleep...