Like all humans who instinctively seem to think that they have a grip on the odds despite what nature herself has in mind for weather conditions, we optimistically and perhaps naively continue to behave as though all the signs of inclemency mean little -- that our decisions to embark on outdoor excursions despite the evidence of the heavens above indicating that it would be folly to proceed, augmented by the daily weather forecasts warning of severe, ongoing thunderstorms mitigate otherwise -- we forged ahead yesterday afternoon, regardless.

Not quite insouciantly, since from time to time we cast somewhat anxious glances at the scudding dark clouds swept ahead by robust windbursts to obliterate a sun stubborn enough to attempt to burn through the stiff cloud curtain, only to see when one large dark cloud system temporarily vacated its position above, another group would enter.

Irregardless, off we went on a somewhat cool late-summer afternoon for our daily ravine circuit, reasoning that the hour or so it would take us to complete our usual hike in the woods would be free of rain. That, in any event, the leafy canopy above the trails would, for the most part, protect us from the worst of the rain if it did eventuate.

Mind, that leafy canopy was already wet, still drenched from overnight rainbursts. Still, from time to time the sun would momentarily shine through a gap in the cloud formations before reverting once again to clouds closing in, creating in the forested environment an intensification of greens and browns as light gave way to gloom.

Shortly into our walk rain began to fall. Not heavily, but enough to persuade us to take an alternate route with a mind to shortening our walk. The canopy did keep us dry, and before too long the rain petered out and we decided not to forego our usual, lengthier circuit. So we swerved onto another trail that would result in our usual circuit being attained, and as we did, out came the sun! Under a sun-filled atmosphere filtering through the trees, rain descended once again.

This shouldn't of course, happen; no clouds could we perceive looking through the canopy above, only an expanse of clear sky emitting light and warmth -- and rain. But then again, it stopped even while the cloud cover returned, yet we had been barely touched by the rain. Our two little dogs were happy to accelerate their pace in hopes, doubtless, of coming across some of their canine acquaintances, but it was not to be; not another soul, human or canine did we see for that hour traipsing through the ravine.

We settled ourselves at home after our walk, comfortable that we had managed it without any undue inconvenience other than to have to remove countless little barbed seedheads from spent wildflower blooms from our little dogs' haircoats. Then, my husband and I were both at our computers; his a mini-laptop, mine a desktop, when suddenly a wild, ear-splitting burst of thunder sounding as though it emanated from right above the roof of our house broke the feeling of tranquility. Rolling thunder continued to erupt close by, accompanied by violent claps.

And then followed the rain, interspersed with hail bursting and clattering against the windows; the rain fell ferociously hard, with intermittent hail. And it continued for a surprisingly long period of time, given that most thunderstorm eruptions don't take all that long to dissipate their fury. Trying to imagine how miserable it would have been to have been caught out in the ravine under this kind of downpour kind of beggars the imagination. Renewing our respectful appreciation of nature's penchant for the unexpected.