Saturday, December 13, 2014

The Express Train

The rain started at 9:07 pm. I wasn't sitting by the window watching for it or anything so how do I know? Because all of a sudden it got quiet. Eerie silence. You know like the eye of a hurricane . . . a lull. I came downstairs and asked The Man if he heard it. "What?" he said, "I don't hear anything."


The wind had started in the wee hours of Thursday morning. It blew, and blew, and blew. It found a little space between the weather stripping and the door and wailed and screeched it's way in. Like a banshee or an Obake. The dogs looked at me and I looked at them. We almost nodded to each other in agreement: It was freaking us out.

It gusted, it shook the house, and roared like a freight train. It was as though we were in the middle of the track. Which in a way we are. The wind was coming from the south and the only thing standing  in it's way was us. And our trees. Luckily, we lost only one large oak limb towards the back of the property far away from any structures.

Even though we had secured our perimeter we still found objects tossed about. The Weber gas grill threatened to skitter across the deck along with the glass topped outdoor table before The Man tied them both down.

The wind gusts became a steady blow just before the rain started. In the dark we stood out on the Vista being buffeted about, I put on safety goggles since I could feel myself being pelted by oak leaves and small twigs. The wind was wild and exhilarating. Yeehaw.

Overnight we received almost 3 inches of rain. For us it was a nice, slow, steady rainfall. No drama - no lightning, no hail, no thunderstorms. Just much needed, much appreciated, rain.

The Day After

It was a good day to hunker down and stay out of the way of the Pineapple Express.