Nature's Opera

Yesterday we had a tornado watch for the area including Gracie Acres until 10pm. All day the sun and clouds played a game of hide and seek with neither gaining the upper hand.

Then last night about 7: 30 the clouds grabbed the advantage and a few showers set in. Sodden clouds passed through in regimental order releasing their loads in soft rains that soothed our parched soil.

As the raindrops tapped out their drumbeat on the leaves, roof and ground the cool breezes tossed the tops of the tall southern pines, brushing them across the clouds like an artist's brush across his canvas. The soothing sound of wind and needle uncannily resembing the soft surf on a warm summer evening.

 Deep inside the clouds lightning flashes popped like frosted light bulbs, softly glowing within, the harsh filament of their bolt masked from sight.

Far in the distance the deep roll of a boulder making its way down a dry mountain river bed announced the muted thunder, and then, it was gone.

 The wind calmed, the lighting slowed and the rain became an occasional spatter, it's remaining presence marked by the metallic tapping of rivulets and drips through the downspout on their way to the hungry sand we call soil.

Then, it's all quiet, just the crickets chirping and the rustle of the other insects competing for food and mates. A toad sits in wait for its next meal to drop by, a firefly marks its way across the yard with its bright beacon trailing behind.

 We wait, watching and listening as natures drama plays out and seemingly comes to the close of its final act. Quiet.

 Then, the barely perceptible brush of a breeze. It increases, pushing the windchimes, urging, compelling them. They oblige the coercion of the winds, beginning to sing their aria to the clouds.

 Intermission is over. Act three begins.