Last night at the Little League playoffs our team was up 10-3 in the top of the last inning when the ump called everyone off the field for a half-hour to see if they thunderheads would move on.
They didn’t. One mass of black clouds dipped down at the horizon like a launchpoint for the grandpa of all tornadoes, and in fact we were under a watch, but no funnel appeared. The league president had a “lightening meter” gadget that registered each lightening strike and returned a distance. When the lightening came within a distance of 12 miles, they called it a completed game and everyone loaded up their cars and sped off.
We sat out on the front porch and watched distant lightening light up the sky while reliving highlights of the game and other day’s events, then packed it in and went to bed.
Two hours later the first giant storm center began hovering overhead, and it was like trying to sleep while someone with a drum set practices in the room right above you. The lightening and the rain went on for three hours. Then it was just rain for an hour. Then at about 3:30 a.m. the drum practice started again, louder, and I got up and unplugged the computers. The second storm system finally blew past at dawn.
The rain gauge had been at a quarter-inch and was overflowing at the top 5.5-inch mark. I am guessing probably 6 inches total last night. There’s still a small pond on the east side of the back yard, another trunk from the dying fig tree was knocked down. The gardens escaped damage and all-in-all we did fine.
The river was at below 11 feet yesterday evening. It’s at 20 feet right now. Pretty good drought medicine, but just another day at the crazy weather races around here.