Posts Tagged ‘rainstorms’
Extra Excitement
We stepped out of our geothermally air-conditioned home yesterday morning into an almost tropical humidity that had me sweating after just a few strides. There had been a rambunctious thunderstorm in the wee hours before dawn, and the weather service was warning that the day could bring even more severe storms in the afternoon.
It was not going to be a day for mowing. After breakfast, I decided to do some rearranging in the compost area.
I removed the pallets from around the most active pile and positioned them beside it. Since the pile was still cooking pretty well, I’m going to leave it standing for another day or two before stirring it up and tossing it back inside the pallets for a second round of composting.
While I was working on that, I suddenly heard the sound of splashing down at Paddock Lake.
Three of the horses were really getting into it as I approached with my phone to record the action. Mix walked away just enough to stay out of the frame. They kicked so much that it looked like they were trying to empty the puddle by working together at the same time.
After I was back in the compost area behind the trees, I suddenly heard the pounding hooves of running horses. They had sprinted out into the hay field, where they stood atop the high spot to survey their surroundings, looking like lords over their domain.
They weren’t out there for very long when the pounding hooves started up again, and I could hear them racing back to the barn overhang. I always wonder if their sprinting triggers memories of their days racing against other horses on the track.
All this activity happened in such a short span of time that I wouldn’t have had a clue if I wasn’t working near them in that moment. The horses spend the majority of their time standing under and around the overhang, so it can seem like they are practically sedentary.
It’s nice to have witnessed proof that this is not necessarily true. Just because I wasn’t around to notice doesn’t mean they haven’t been sneaking in a little extra excitement every once in a while.
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Unidentified Obfuscation
It starts to get hard when you reach the point of not being able to hear yourself think. The little boy in me who has never grown up occasionally shows up to ask me why I’m so quick to forget about the bliss of being four or five years old and getting lost in some harmless pursuit. The answer is always the same.
It’s not that I’m quick to forget. I’m just slow to remember. Present-day life tends to do that to a person.
An awful lot of years have passed since I sprawled on the floor making truck sounds with my mouth as I rolled Matchbox cars along the borders of our large Persian rug.
The recent stress of the day-job continues unabated amidst a boom of business that started at the same time as the global pandemic and its havoc on world economies. It is proving to be a brain-scrambler of significant magnitude.
Last night the ranch received an impressive sample of the remnants of Tropical Storm Cristobol in the form of wave after wave of soaking rain. I think it might make the landscape pond overflow. [wry smile]
We are hoping that the deluge won’t drown any of the plants in Cyndie’s gardens.
She served up another delicious salad last night with all the greens coming from plants she is growing. This time I remembered to take a picture.
The asparagus isn’t ours. They’re store-bought. I can only hope someday our wisps of skinny stalks will someday reach such mammoth proportions.
Much to our surprise, rainstorms seem to improve our connection for Zoom meetings, and last night I was able to participate in conversations with an international collection of members of my beloved virtual community, Brainstorms. (Ward, it was a treat to see and hear you!). For almost an hour my connection flashed instability only three times, but never once dropped my connection entirely. That was a first.
The normal mode for Zoom gatherings by way of our cell connection out here in the countryside is to freeze up frequently and get dropped/reconnected multiple times until I give up and sign off.
The last time Cyndie was in a Zoom meeting during wild weather, she enjoyed similar success. The signal must like having all those raindrops in the air. Who’d uh guessed?
The little boy in me would have, probably.
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Relative Something 