It was Monday morning around 7. I was supposed to be doing chores
but elected to take pictures first, before the rain moved in.
There was so much lightning that even without coffee in my system,
I was able to catch a bolt now and then.
Me: You two had better get in the barn. It's not safe out here.
Me: See what I mean?
Johnny: You don't have to tell me twice.
I took my own advice and ran back in the house. So much for morning chores.
I got inside just in time to hear the phone ring – it was one of those reverse 911 calls
warning me about the weather, which convinced me that the storm was indeed as bad as it looked.
But it moved through quickly and nothing terrible happened.
The pasture puddled in the usual places.
George was a little shell-shocked from his least favorite noise,
hail on the metal barn roof.
Johnny didn't mind the hail, judging by how much fun he seemed to have eating it.
As she does with most things, Lucy took it all in stride.
Alan kept a lookout for the next storm to move through.
He didn't have to wait long.