Mid afternoon yesterday I thought the day couldn't get any better.
There was a heavy fog this morning and it was still lifting from the mountain around 10 am when I went to open the gate to the Lodge. I'd arranged to meet visitors at the gate and had taken a book to read while I waited for them. But I was happy to just watch the mist as it swirled around the hills.
The two school teachers who I was showing around the lodge couldn't have picked a better morning. The bush looked all sparkly and clean, noise seemed to carry more clearly than usual. Either that or there were more birds at play. Walking through the bush seemed like the best possible thing to be doing on a Friday morning.
I was in the most mellow of moods. Just loving my world and my life. I even had poetic thoughts imagining a gentle hand at work when these softly moulded hills were created.
It was easy to remember that spring is nearly here. Soon the poplars will be turning green but this is the time of year when I like them most. The lovely silver colour in this line of trees was highlighted by the dark clouds gathering behind them.
In the mellow-ness of my mood everything looked beautiful. I stopped the car to admire these cattle enjoying the sun as if they knew it wasn't going to last for long.
Only a few miles closer to home the dark clouds were already starting to drop their load over the mountain. That's my road home running along the bottom of the photo.
By the time I reached home it was bucketing down and I had to wait in the car for a while before making a dash for the front door.
The weather cleared to produce an "Ahh, what a lovely day" sort of evening. But, the day was not yet over. Later that night while I was talking to my daughter on the phone I was first of all distracted by hearing cattle bellowing. I wonder if they could sense what was to come because shortly after, it was the sound of thunder. As it got louder she could hear it over the phone. Our chat was ended when the power went out.
When I was a child in Australia my grandmother taught us to appreciate a good storm. At the first sign of an approaching storm she would gather us on the verandah, pillows and blankets on the floor, kerosene lamps at the ready in case the power went out and join us in oooos and aaaas as the thunder crashed and lightning flashed. Then after the storm we would watch as our grandfather saddled up the horse and rode off to check that the lightning had not started any grass fires in the hills. My grandmother always comes to sit on my shoulder when there is a storm and I'm ashamed to confess that she would have been rather taken aback at what escaped my lips as I stood in the open doorway and the thunder clapped directly overhead as the lightning blinded me it was so close. I heard a zzzt as something nearby took a hit. To my surprise all my electrics are working today.