The Hail Storm of Ought-Nine

Thursday I talked about the weather and our ancestors, inspired by Florida's heat. This afternoon, that heat gave us another gift of weather to report for our descendants, a hail storm. Around noon, when my husband and I left our genealogical society meeting, grey storm clouds were beginning to form. The temperature was again in the 90 degrees F. territory, a formula for afternoon thunderstorms.

Not long after my husband and I got home from the meeting, with our daughter beginning to make brownies for a hostess gift for the family with whom we will have dinner tonight, my husband talking to our insurance company, still wrangling over issues to do with the day last December when an out-of-control driver smacked into me on a local bridge, and me on my computer checking e-mail and wondering what to discuss in my blog, the bottom dropped out. Rain came down like gangbusters, the wind whipped the trees every which way, and then we heard the thud of hail against roof, wall, and window.

The hail consisted in clear pellets about the size of marbles. It created a horrendous din as it pelted the house. I went out in the garage and felt the garage door. At this time of day -- the storm hit us about 2:20 this afternoon -- you wouldn't want to put your hand on the garage door, as it is quite hot. When I felt it during the hail storm, it was cold to the touch. I have to say it felt wonderful.

Fortunately, we sustained no damage. Our trees lost some leaves and small branches, and there were little ice pellets along with considerable puddles all over the yard. But it did give us something to talk about, and something to record and pass down, complete with photographs. We live in a wondrous age, indeed, when news can travel so fast, and when we can document events with instant photographs.