Late in the afternoon as dark clouds billowed overhead, thunder once distant drew closer, a symphony of claps and rumbles echoing forth from the heavens.  And lightning!  Yes, lightning began an electric dance across the sky, first only flashes of light hidden deep within the tempest’s bowels, but finally it too sprang forth in abrupt displays of growing fury.

My eyes settled on every bit of movement, ever churning of cloud, for temperatures were ripe for severe storms.  Already we had been warned of hail and flooding downpours.  All these things were sure signs of spring’s arrival.  In Texas terms, that meant gales of hell’s wrath and rain so heavy cars can be washed away.  And it meant chunks of ice falling to the ground large enough to kill, or render cars inoperable, or even to cause roofs to shatter under the onslaught.

Yet even as I watched the growing celestial discord take shape, it slowly moved overhead and away toward the east.  At least the most forbidding visual seemed intent to pass us by.

The show was like an action movie.  Like vehemently boiling water the clouds turned over themselves, twisted and turned in frenzied abandon.  And still it moved by and away despite the growing thunder and flashes of lightning.

“Do you think I’ll make it?”

The voice frightened me.  It was of a man somewhere in the distance.  I was not even aware of his presence, so I moved to gain a better view of the senseless being intruding upon my contemplative moment under nature’s growing anger.

Dressed in green shorts and a black tee shirt, a young gentleman struggled with rigging tied atop his SUV and holding in place cargo hidden beneath a tarp.

I wondered what treasures he had lashed to his vehicle while I strained to see with whom he was speaking.  It couldn’t be me for he couldn’t have seen me, and I was too far away for his tone to have been cast in my direction.

Then I saw her.  A young woman comfortable in her white blouse and ginger skirt, a dainty lass standing atop the stairs of an adjacent building where she could see the young man as he struggled with his task.

“Oh, I think so,” she replied.  Her head moved to look up as she added, “It looks like it’s going to pass us by.”

I struggled to keep my laughter from bursting onto the scene.  What a simple view of nature they must have to believe only the most vicious looking clouds posed a threat.

And that’s when the rain began.  It fell gently in large drops, each casting a silver dollar-sized shadow where it landed.

Both of them looked up.

He hesitantly offered, “I hope so.”  His hands never paused in their reaching and grabbing and pulling.

The woman silently turned and walked away.  And I watched him then, watched as he moved about the large vehicle with rope in hand.  He leaned over first here then there unwrapping the twine from its knotted safety around the truck’s cargo rack.

That’s when my eyes once again moved upward.  Their perspective undoubtedly was better than mine, yet even I could see bright clouds moving in from the west as the growing darkness shuffled off toward the east.  From their perspective, I thought, things look to be passing us by altogether.

Silly people.

Only a minute or so elapsed from then.  The air brightened as though the sun struggled to break through the blanket dangling over us.  From their perspective, things probably were looking better.

His work continued unabated.  It seemed he had the load halfway freed from its bindings.

Then came hell.

The sky opened up with a vengeance.  Rain fell in heavy buckets of torrential threat, droplets so large and pressed so firmly together as to be a wall of water unleashed upon the earth.  It sprang over the distant trees and leaped on us in but a moment.  There had been no notice.  Well, none save that of knowing what Texas thunderstorms are capable of.

I laughed.  I didn’t mean to laugh at his misfortune and their collective unpreparedness.  It’s spring in Texas.  How could they have expected anything else?

So he set about covering the cargo once again, at least as best he could under the circumstances.  And the rain came harder, the thunder screamed from its hidden places, and lightning stretched from horizon to horizon.

By the time he was done he looked nothing like he had before.  In fact, I thought of him as a drowned rat, a poor rodent caught in a flood that came without warning.  He didn’t even run for cover by the time he finished ensuring the safety of the tarped treasures.  It was too late for running.

Meanwhile, the wind pushed sheets of rain toward me and I backed away from the fence until my back rested against the bedroom doors.

Already a pond had formed on the patio stretching from end to end, a wash of ground threatening to reach out and grab me.  I watched in amazement as it fell heavier and heavier, more water on top of the last, until finally I could dip my toes in a tumultuous lake simply by placing one foot in front of the other.

I knew the water could never reach the doors.  Nevertheless, I had run out of room to stand and was being sprayed by continuing splashes both from the ground and from the sky.  I was beginning to understand how the man had felt, at least in a small way.

So I went inside and enjoyed the show from there.

We needed the rain, you know.  We need a lot more of it.  Two years of drought and counting has inflicted tremendous harm on this area.  To see water triumph over both air and earth in one decisive blow held for me a fascination…and a longing.

“More,” I finally pleaded.

It was not enough.  But it was a promising start to spring.