Yesterday evening brought us the calm before the storm.  A weather alert had warned of oncoming high winds and lashing rain accompanying thunderstorms to begin in the evening hours of a day that had itself been windy and heavily overcast. Still, it was cool at 26C, with no sun penetrating the moving cloud cover and we had stayed out much longer than usual in the afternoon for an elongated tramp through the forest trails. Thinking the while that given the forecast, we likely wouldn't be able to get out at all today.

 

At dinnertime and beyond the clouds had suddenly disappeared and the sky was clear. When night fell, there were still no clouds in evidence, which made the urgency of the forecast questionable. By the time we went upstairs to bed nothing had changed and it seemed unlikely to. The stars were bright and nestled in a velvet-blue heaven, not a cloud in sight.

And then, around 2:00 am we heard the first distant thumps approaching. It wasn't long before they became more numerous, as they steadily approached. Following their arrival the sky tipped its storage-basin of rain into the atmosphere and rain cascaded down for hours accompanied by deep baritone voices of a heavenly choir. There's something about a thunderstorm at night when you're in bed, that's comforting and pleasant. We tend to enjoy such episodes and though Jackie and Jillie responded to the first deep rumbles, they soon began to ignore them and fell back into their usual deep sleep, and so did we.

 

Throughout the morning and afternoon today the sky was just as changeable; first heavy with dark clouds skimming the roof of the world, and finally opening with a grand flourish, sweeping rain racing across the landscape. Then suddenly, out came the sun. A repetitive drama that kept us uncertain whether we would find a window to get out, after all.

In the meanwhile, I decided to bake Brownies; I hadn't made them in ages. Irving suggested something quick and easy to make. He's always making those suggestions, as though it's a burden to me to be busy in the kitchen reluctantly committing to complex baking rituals. It's anything but, for me. I enjoy the time it takes and the thought that goes into deciding what to make as a special Friday-night treat, I always have. But preparations for this little treat are hardly demanding in any event.

Finally there was a period when the back-and-forth rain-versus-sun came to an end, and for at least an hour the sun stayed out. It seemed like a clear invitation to get out into the ravine with the puppies and we took the opportunity. Except that by the time we did so, the sky had once again begun to host dark, quick-moving clouds that looked ready to rain anew. Off we went in the hope the clouds would move on, and they did, though others took their place but not as threateningly. 

 

We were surprised to come across others out, taking advantage of a seeming pause  in the rain. In the past month we've seldom seen others from the community taking turns on the forest trails. Possibly inhibited by the presence of mosquitoes and the hot humidity that prevailed. The risk of being caught in a voluminous thunderstorm doesn't appear to have fazed them. Because the temperature was cool at 22C, we wore light rainjackets and carried along little raincoats for Jackie and Jillie. But were pleased not to have to use them, enjoying the reward of taking the chance of  getting drenched.