Sneak Storm

I am pleased as I go out to feed, because the sky is mostly blue and there is a hint of sun. It's cooler than yesterday, but dry. At the end of my rounds, as I walk towards the sheep, I hear a big wind. It is coming from the north, rattling leaves and buffeting air, making it's approach known. I stand and watch, as one tree and then another is tickled and then bent by the approaching wind. Now leaves are flying, and a bird is diving, soaring, playing in the airstream. Gray clouds are seeping steadily south. I stand and watch, which turns out to be a mistake. I'm struck by an ice ball, then two more, and then it is hailing loudly as I head up the hill to the house. The sky is still half blue, then a hint of blue, then gray. Sheep run for their shelter.

The hail stops. The wind stops, then returns to tickle the treetops. A hole opens in the center of the sky and sun sneaks through. The greens are beautiful against the blue-gray sky, intense as colors are only during storms. The wind gusts, recedes, gusts. What will happen next? The chickens run back out to see if the storm brought any food with it. There remains a hole at the top of the sky where the sun shines through.

Spring storm from the north sneaks in and plays.