Relative Something

With the temperature and dew point climbing to summer levels once again, Asher and I headed out to chop down tall growth in the drainage swale. I try to knock that down each fall to remove any hindrance to water flowing when the spring melt occurs. That implies an assumption that we get enough snow for that to be an issue.

Since we lost track of Asher the last time we were working on this project, I tethered him to a fence post with a long leash. He was impressively patient for much of the time, right up until he wasn’t. Then the irritation of his whining stopped my progress.

While I was sweating away in the afternoon heat, I made frequent checks of the sky for the arrival of the stormy weather that had been predicted. It didn’t look very threatening, but we did start hearing thunder in the distance when feeding the horses.

When I came in for dinner, I turned on the news and looked up a storm chaser streaming live on YouTube. I found a guy driving toward Ellsworth, and the TV offered a radar view of the most intense activity aimed right at us.

The TV broadcast was hyping the intensity of the hail core and mentioned the possibility of up to baseball-sized hail. The fact that we had just paid to have our roof re-shingled heightened the drama in our minds.

Cyndie was texting me from Chicago to get updates. She asked if Asher and I were going to the basement. I told her I wanted to get a picture of the hail first.

Alas, the drama ended faster than it had started. We received a few minutes of heavy rain, but that was all. No hail. Little in the way of wind. No lightning. Barely any thunder.

Thank goodness. I prefer to have our new shingles last more than one week before getting pummeled by large hailstones.

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