We knew it was coming: Fierce wind, biting cold, swirling clouds of snow. Still, last winter’s memories had faded. Toques, boots, mitts, jackets — all had been relegated to a dark corner of the basement. We had forgotten the shock such a turn in the weather can bring.
Today it all came rushing back. Winter gear was resurrected and the snow shovel that had languished behind the shed since last spring was dragged to the deck and a pathway cleared down the steps.
Tomorrow? The sun will return, the temperature will rise and by Thursday this will probably have melted.
July 12th was a typical hot summer day. Until late afternoon. Then black clouds billowed out of the northwest wiping out the sun and trailing thunder so loud it hurt the ears.
It was fury unleashed as the storm pounded the house and turned deck and driveway white with hail.
When the cacophony finally stopped about half an hour later we ventured outside. Nearly 4 cm of water — more than 1.5 inches — sat in the rain gauge. Flower and vegetable gardens resembled huge tossed salads.
In the woods we found the remains of a recently opened wood lily, one petal still clinging to the stem. Pockets of moss held handfuls of white stones (that were still there two days later).
In spite of the damage much of the gardens will recover. That’s the nature of plants.
As for the woods? They were transformed — filled suddenly with light, branches sparkling crystal-like with rain, mist floating in the air …
… the wonder of a storm.
Indeed it was. A sky full of fluffy clouds soon became a boiling cauldron.
Wind-whipped, I stood on the gravel road breathing in the coming storm.
Autumn leaves, ripped from the poplars, blew past me. Spruce, stark against the clouds, began to shift and shake.
The roar of air gone wild filled my ears.
Then darkness enveloped me.
A dark storm engorged with rain
Fell, full strength, upon us
Left beauty in its wake.
Lodgepole pine Pinus contorta
Another spring storm.
Heavy snow shuts down the garden.
Underneath — the lilac holds her perfumed breath.