Yesterday evening, my husband and I were out in the field, picking up the metal from our last massive burning. Thunder cracked in the not so distance, causing us to look up. A small dark cloud rushed in existence, billowing upward a white mushroom of a cloud. Suddenly the air was thick with electricity, and a streak of several beams of light crossed the blue sky, like a child's finger painting and their version of what the sun raising in the east would look like, opposite of what was truly happening, the sun in it's orange and pink glory setting in the west.
Baseball size hail fell unto the uknowing households. We managed to get away with nothing more than a good drenching that barely soaked below the soil's surface.