It was Tuesday evening around 7:00. The rain had stopped, the air was still,
and there were pictures that had to be taken.
Even in the land of amazing skies, I don't remember ever seeing one like this.
The feral beast accompanied me down the path to the back 40,
and we stopped often to watch the clouds and the sunbeams.
And then it started...a noise, a rumble, a sound of unknown origin.
It was coming from the west, on the other side of those mountains,
but far far away, like Arizona-far.
The longer we stood there, the louder it got,
and the more perplexed I got. Aliens? Tanks?
North Korea is off in that direction...an intercontinental ballistic missile?
The feral beast couldn't figure it out either.
I followed his lead and ran toward home, feeling immensely guilty
that I was abandoning my herd in the back 40 to the likes of Kim Jong-un.
But then the noise was on top of us and the wind went from 0 to 60 in a split second.
Who knew weather fronts could make that kind of noise? Not me.
Lesson learned. Though I'll still be on the lookout for aliens, tanks and ICBMs.