It rained. Feel the joy.

A long stretch of dry, blistering heat ended for an hour last week. I wasn’t expecting it that late afternoon and had just come inside the house, calling Chloe and Bella to follow me. Ten minutes outdoors was enough when it’s ninety-five and humid.

A few minutes later, the sun disappeared behind thick storm clouds and the winds blew due north, putting a chill in the air. The birds found shelter for a reason other than a quickly approaching storm and in the distance I could see a wall of it. Rain? Really? Soon, I could smell it approaching. Hello, old friend.

Whenever I see and feel a storm approaching, I remember my Mother’s twinkling eyes and faint smile when the clouds became dark and low. She, being a child of a tenant farmer in the 1930’s and 40’s, viewed rain as cause for uplifted spirits and celebration. They relied solely on Mother Nature to feed the crops as there were no irrigation systems. Some of her happiest childhood memories included rainy days, as it was a time she and her siblings took a little break from farm work and enjoyed seeing their weary mother and father relax and feel the joy. Let there be peace.

Mom preferred clouds and I have always preferred sun. We understood each other anyway.

The cable connection died and the lightning and thunder shook the house. What else was there to do except to take photos from the covered front porch or through the windows?

Drink up, Witch Hazel!

While most birds took cover, the hummingbirds seemed to love the downpour! I’ve been seeing eight or ten hummingbirds at my feeders at a time and I don’t think they are frolicking. They’re very competitive.

A drenched hummingbird didn’t mind the shower at all.

Chloe never paid attention to thunderstorms until this year. She gets antsy and trembles at times. She found something to do…

“I took your dinner napkin. Do you want it back?”


Bella was oblivious to the storm and continued to clean her toenails.

“Yummy. Must have stepped on b-b-bunny poop.”

It stormed for an hour but this isn’t the type of rain we need as it quickly rushed down the hills into the street. We're on the verge of a major water restriction here.

We got a new visitor out of it, though. Love those little suction cup feet!

The first bird to return to the feeder (of course).

The sun broke through again, steam rose from the streets, and we dried up. I think it was warmer after the storm than before it hit us.

Ninety minutes later, back to boring normal (not referring to the hummingbird). Business as usual.