Stormy

I should wish I was still at the beach, but it's been too fun around here thanks to spring storms.

The weather's been intense. Hard downpours, hail, mist, towering clouds with tiny bits of bright blue between--when the sun actually pokes through where I'm at, I have to squint. My eyes have adapted to the darkness and don't do well in sun at the moment. I have become a creature of the dimness and thunder.

It's fun to watch the patchwork of sun and shadow on the hills, when it's not pouring, that is. One really nice thing about the weather is that the temperature has dropped so much, and it's so miserable (though gorgeous) out there that the hummingbirds have given up on being scared of us. The female especially just parks on the feeder under the eaves, happy to be out of the torrential downpours. It must be like flying through a whitewater river for her.

Which, when it comes down to it, is inspiring weather to write in. When the skyfall sounds like marbles banging on the roof, and I see a gold, green and slate streak of landscape lit by rare sunlight while we're huddled in the shadow of a massive thunderhead, it's easy to write dramatically.

And I'm not at all tempted to take a gardening break. I guess the slugs get to eat it all. I ain't goin' out there, not even to bait.