Taken from the south field |
Mike
had been anticipating the opening of dove season (September 1), especially
since he discovered doves on our property. Dove season will seem promising late in August, but then we get a storm or a cool spell, and the doves
leave.
Behind the house |
The
storm we had here Wednesday evening (Aug. 30) was nothing in comparison to those hurricanes in the south. Perhaps I
shouldn’t even mention it, but it kept us busy for half an hour nevertheless. About 5:00, Bess, a creature of habit, insisted we should take our afternoon walk.
The day had been smoky, hot, and sultry, and it crossed my mind as we left the yard
that perhaps a storm was brewing. As we trudged up Plank’s Pitch, we began to hear
distant thunder. Even Nellie can hear a low rumble. Our little party of four
moved along together. It was warm enough that we decided to let the dogs
refresh themselves in Pete’s Pond. The rumbles were growing closer. In my mind’s
eye, I could see brother Chuck sitting on the porch to await the pending storm.
Sun and shadows after the storm |
We
didn’t dally at the pond. “Shall we go back across the field or on the road,” I
asked Mike, and he opined that it would be best to stay to the low ground (the road). I
agreed. I thought the storm was coming closer. I guess Nellie thought so, too, because she marched along right at my
side, and we picked up the pace. Bess danced on ahead – but not too far ahead.
We could see Little Canyon after the storm |
It
was still hot and sultry when we reached the farmhouse, but the breeze felt fresh and lovely. Mike suggested that we open the
windows. (Why do I let him talk me into these things?) Then he went to take a
shower. Just like that the storm hit, and suddenly every part of the house
called for my attention. Bess whined to be let in, while the wind shrieked around the corners of the house. I
grabbed a towel and started closing windows and mopping up water as fast as I
could. The old aluminum screen door on the sunporch was thrown back against the
house, bending the rod. I managed to pull it closed though the screen was
inadequate to keep the rain out anyway. Water stood on the floor. Once I
accomplished damage control, I warmed leftovers in the microwave for supper just
in case our electricity should go off. (It didn’t happen.)
We even had a faint rainbow |
Through
it all, Mike showered on, but to be fair, there was plenty left for him to do.
By 6:10, the storm was over. He mopped the sunporch floor, then moved outside
to set the garbage can to rights and pick up trash. Our old charcoal grill was
blown off its perch on the cistern, breaking the handle, but Mike was able to
mend it. The work continued Thursday morning. Mike fixed the bent rod on the
screen door and carried tree limbs to the burn pile, while I picked up
windfalls under the pear tree.
After the storm, the evening was lovely and I took some pictures. For as much rain as I mopped up in the house, it didn't amount to much. The gardens were bone dry the next day.
Little Canyon is obscured again |
The
storm cleared the smoke to some extent, but this morning I watched as it crept
back in, once again obscuring our view of Little Canyon and the buttes. And the doves?
Well, I don’t think there are as many as Mike hoped, but there are some. KW
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