Last evening, the first real thunderstorm of the season rattled the woods. Dog was scared and sat on my foot through the entire event. He’s been this way since he was unexpectedly caught outside on the back deck during a real doozy last year. That remains the only time I’ve ever seen him in his doghouse. Baby Dog, still new to thunderstorms, barked at the thunder. She wasn’t using her scared bark. She was using her “I’m-announcing-an-intruder” bark. I think it’s going to be a long season.
Before the storm, I walked the dogs and then took my own evening walk, the first I’ve been able to do after work since the time change. I watched the clouds thicken, lower and grow grumpy-looking. I kept my walk close to the cabin, not wanting to get caught far from it when the storm hit. I spent more time watching the clouds than I did observing the sights of early spring around me, I’m afraid. Still, the walk felt good and reminded me of other walks in other years and made me look forward to more in the future. I guess spring is good for something after all.
The storm hit near sunset, turning the forest light a sickly shade of yellow. At first, I thought that’s what was happening—sunset through an overcast sky. It only took a second before I realized the storm was on its way. The rain hit first, pelting the window so hard I never did figure out if it was rain or small hail. In the end, the storm turned out to be no worse than average, despite the destruction and death it caused in Tennessee and the tornado watch in the northern counties. It is another sign of spring, as sure as the new growth and the tree buds and the arrival of summer migrants.
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