This morning I arose at 6:00 and looked out the bathroom window to a really deep red sunrise belt low on the horizon, from northeast, to east, clear over to southeast and south. Everything else in the sky was black as pitch with cloud cover. There were two "tails" dipping down out of the black sky, and they made curious silhouettes in the red. I called out to that Spouse o' Mine that I hoped they were not tornadoes, and when I went back to look again, they were gone, and the black lay smoothly horizontal alongside the red-and-then deep-orange-red of daybreak.
But we never really saw daybreak, because the clouds of black snuck in so quickly, after my first glimpse of red horizon, daybreak was gone again in mere moments, and the tremendous winds of Kansas summer storms built up, along with the lightning and thunder.
And so my morning began with "Yoga by Thunderstorm", complete with loss of electricity.
And here I will insert my quandary as to what is correct: Sneaked? Snuck? I prefer the latter:
Snuck is used in American and Canadian English as the past tense andpast participle of sneak, but it is considered non-standard, i.e., ol for dialectal and informal speech and writing. The standard past tense is sneaked.
After the morning storm, I went out to see a very large tree branch had fallen across part of our pasture fence. Huh. If we still had horses, this would have been an immediate problem. As it is, we will haul the branch away and look at the fence, muttering, "Huh."
And now it is early evening. The clouds suddenly joined right over our house (seriously!) and commenced a monsoon, then thunderstorm, then hailstorm, and deluge, for an hour or so. We have water running through any low points of our property. Now the sun has come out in the western horizon. But we still are watching the lightning, interestingly, striking air-to-ground bolts just across the way from us, in the cornfield and across the river.
I am not a calm "lightning" person. About twenty minutes ago, we were standing in the middle of our living room, watching a new sweep of hail come through.
The entire process, lighting/thunder/me rushing two feet over to that Spouse o' Mine's arms, and the subsequent shoulder injuries, took only seconds. Seriously. Mere moments. After he regained his balance on the hardwood, he smiled and said, "Trish, didn't you see the flash?"
No. No, I did not. What I experienced was a very loud thunder that shook this whole house, all 120+ years of it, and I moved. So much so, and so quickly, I think, that my two shoulders were left behind in the action. Wow. They hurt. Seriously? A "Thunder Injury"??
Tomorrow will tell the tale. I have found, in my midlife wisdom of 55, that time tells all. I hope I did not suffer Thunder Whiplash.