On my way home from work, an emergency broadcast interrupted the radio program to describe a big storm. A storm that I was driving toward! The broadcast went on to say that lightning was natures number one killer, and that if you could hear thunder, then you were close enough to be struck by lightning. And also, we should expect damage from the heavy winds. Thanks for the reassuring message!
Fortunately I got home before the storm, and was safely tucked in, alone, in our rickety old house on a hill during the worst of the wind.
The after-storm sky was fantastic.
Maybe it was the euphoria from surviving the storm, which really wasn't as bad as the emergency broadcast implied it was going to be, but I couldn't decide which part of the sky was more photogenic.
Toward the east, the violet sky was streaked with pink clouds, moving fast, and changing shape before my eyes.
To the west, the sun was sinking behind the horizon, but the clouds were casting dark shadows on themselves.
Puck, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.
The chickens are funny to watch when the wind is stong, especially when proud Poncho's big tail blows inside out and he looses his footing, but I was glad that all the birds were smart enough to seek shelter during the storm.
I never saw any lightning.
We didn't come through completely unscathed though. The door to the chicken coop was busted! Brandon managed to tack it back together once he got home, but I'm afraid it will never be quite the same again.