5 Minutes of Hail

Cabbage, anyone???

Debris from the storm backed up at the culvert. 

This pile is still here next to the deck this morning. 

It had already been an odd day.  My internet was not working sometimes, and when it was, it would not let me visit certain sites.  Other times it would let me visit and yet other sites could not be accessed.

Bill had called me twice---first, to tell me about traffic being blocked in town because of something happening on the bridge.  

He worked at Elliot Bay east of Sagle yesterday, so when he drove past Sagle School he saw ambulances and lots of other emergency personnel on the ball field.

Later, we learned that a man who’d been in a car accident had died before the Life Flight helicopter arrived to take him to a hospital.

Eventually the Internet began working normally.  I accomplished a lot of satisfying chores outside, including a little weeding in my most beautiful garden ever. 

In fact, I’d thought in the morning about how I should take a picture of those gorgeous clumps of lettuce.  Definitely the most attractive ever. Never did take a picture. 

I also finished a two-day lawn-mowing project, and with my new mower and bag, the lawn looked exquisite. Feeling very satisfied with the outdoor work, I took a break and drove to town for doggie biscuits.  Even treated myself to an afternoon latte.

While driving the Kootenai route home and deciding to take a swing down Hickey Road, I heard the Emergency Broadcast system report that severe thunderstorms would be hitting Northeast Washington.

No mention of Idaho, so I knew there would be time to get home and take care of animals before the storm.

I drove past Hickey Farms where they had reported pumpkin seed sowing a few days ago---many more pumpkins than last year, in fact.

Then, as I turned down Jacobson Road, I could see a rather ominous sky.

“Maybe it’s coming here sooner,” I thought.  “Glad I’ll be home before it starts.

Well, it started about 30 seconds later as I drove north on East Shingle Mill toward Selle Road.  At the intersection of Selle Road and East Shingle Mill, it seemed almost like a traffic jam with cars coming from everywhere. 

As I turned, I saw a lady in an SUV pull off into a driveway and park.

Just a mile or so from home and listening to pelting hail almost echo off the roof of the car AND that was over the sound of the radio and the car fan, I was really glad that home was not far away.

I worried especially about the crack in the Suburu wind shield which has grown into a full square.

 

“Hope that doesn’t shatter in my face,” I thought has hail relentlessly pounded away at the window.

Turning on to South Center Valley Road, I saw an eerie scene----trees and bushes appearing out of a huge cloud of steam.  Steam had enveloped the neighborhood, it seemed.

Picture time, I thought.

 

Stopping on the road at the south end of our farm, I pulled out the cell phone and snapped a few shots.  When I turned into the driveway and saw the newly mown lawn coated with millions of hail stones, I was stunned, to say the least.

By the time I parked, lightning was striking, and thunder was booming virtually every five-ten seconds. 

Gotta get the dogs out of the run.  

So, in the midst of the pounding hail, by this time mixed with torrents of rain and wind and thunder and lightning, I ran to the dog run, said a little prayer while opening the metal gate and letting five drenched dogs out.

 

“Report!” I yelled as they raced across the white, leaf-strewn lawn.

 

“Report” means to get in the garage immediately. They did. 

Over in the barnyard, Lefty stood in the shelter.  In the pasture, Lily stood in the far corner, which is very unusual for her.  She doesn’t like rain, but she wasn’t going to move, and I love my horse but did not, at that time, have the nerve to run out into the field in the midst of that wild lightning.

I figured Lily, by nature, knew what was best.  When the storm finally let up, she moved around the field, unscathed.

Bill came home and told how he was driving HWY 95, and, as a Southerner who's been through similar storms, looked for a gas station where he could get some protection under the big roof.  He had to settle for the Nazarene Church parking lot north of town.

We rode out the storm, feeling a bit hyper and somewhat excited.  In my case, I’d never seen anything like it.  

Later, though, when I looked at my garden and yard flowers, I almost wept.  My annual lupine show will be half there this year cuz half of each lupine stem’s buds blew away or got pelted to death in the storm.

All those weeks of tender loving care and the resulting beautiful veggies and flowers----now a vegetative battle zone. 

The pictures tell the rest.  I’m hoping with continued tender loving care that at least the veggies will revive themselves.  That’s a bit selfish cuz there’s no better feeling than working at these projects and then strolling around admiring the outcome. Hope it will happen.

In the meantime, today is a day for picking up the pieces, remaining resilient and knowing that in North Idaho if it seems too good to be true, don’t count on it to last.

Happy Wednesday.