Drifting in and out of a comfortable Saturday morning dream, I could hear that pitter patter of the rain outside my window. I drew the comforter closer around me and burrowed deeper into the bed. An almighty clap of thunder jarred me right out of my reverie and brought the harsh light of day into focus.
Except, that that light was muted and subdued, even though the curtains were pulled back. I opened my eyes wider and saw that the sky was dark with angry clouds and the rain wasn't a pleasant pitter patter anymore, rather a vicious lashing force working with a wind that bent the maple tree to ominous angles. I was still taking this all in when I head a rumbling. Thunder, it wasn't. It sounded more like a monster version of a garbage truck was making its way down my street. I peered out of the bay window, puzzled.
And then, jumped back in alarm as hundreds upon thousands of missiles suddenly landed on the lawn in front of me with an intensity that made them bounce back up and slap against the window pane. For the next 5 minutes the air was filled with the rat-tat-tat of these heavenly bullets striking against the driveway, the sidewalk, the parked cars and the roofs.
And then, just as suddenly as it arrived, it ceased. The rain lessened to a muffled hum and then that too stopped. And only then did I creep back to the window to take stock of my battered world.
Pictures by a friend, LK.