Nature supplied noise-makers for the early hours of January 1, 2022.
December brought a variety of weather, with many days in the high 60's F. Uneasy weather that spawned devastating tornados in western Kentucky, with lesser damage nearer our area.
The sun has been tardy in appearing before noon; each hour of sunshine and patchy blue sky is welcomed.
We woke at 3 A.M. on the morning of the New Year--lightning zipped through the night sky, thunder muttered; bursts of rain beat a tattoo on the roof.
A thunderstorm several weeks ago blew out our land line, frying the phone in the process, so we are now prepared to hastily unplug the 'splitter' when storms move in closer.
For several hours the storms buffeted us-- subsiding for a few minutes, then returning with vigor--thunder crashing, rain a fury of pounding torrents.
I managed only one photo when I went outside around 8 to convey soiled cat litter to the dump at the edge of the south ravine.
Rainwater surged along the verge of the lane--the air had an unhealthy suffocating sense of warm dampness. We went to church--encountering water nearly over the road in places, boilings of dense fog, rain so intense that the windshield wipers on full speed couldn't cope.
Halfway to town we ran out of the storm--and a pale sun struggled through ragged clouds.
Rain has continued today, Sunday, seldom more than a mizzle. The meadow above the house has greened in this counterfeit spring; buds have started to swell on a few flowering shrubs.
The forecast for the coming week calls for falling temperatures, nights below freezing, even the possibility of sleet or snow.
As retirees we are not much impacted in practical ways by fickle weather. We have no particular schedule to keep, no appointments, no need to venture out in poor driving conditions.
I'm not complacent about this--family members and friends have to brave the storms, flooded roadways, and travel before and after the brief hours of daylight.
Compensation for our unsettled weather: Jim dug carrots this morning. They became part of our supper menu, served with a butter and honey glaze.
As I finish this post at 10 P.M. the weather update that runs across the bottom of my screen announces 34F Rain and Snow.
The front steps and brick landing shine wetly in the glow of the porch light, but at the moment no precipitation falls from the sky.
The cats are sprawled in their chosen comfortable spots.
Time for bed and a few pages of the current book.