Today’s storm came early, in mid-afternoon, Red and the donkeys came out to the pasture with me to see it coming, to welcome it. Our lives seemed filled with weather, lazy summer days are shaped and changed by rain, wind, tornados, storms, fire, water, heat and drought. Weather is our shared experience, the weather used to be the province of quiet government geeks, now it is big business, our phones and computers are beeping us endlessly with alerts, warnings. The weather has turned my farm upside down, where there was no grass there is plenty of grass, a newly opened pasture is not needed where last year it was urgently needed, the rivers, streams and brooks are overflowing, brushogging two weeks ago, necessary again in a few weeks, crops underwater, farmers muttering, flies and mosquitoes swarming in great clouds, everywhere, through screens into doors open for a minute, storms every single day for weeks.

My experience with weather has become personal, the skies have become so beautiful, I watch for the right ones every day. I wait in the pasture for the storms, they come to find me, to hover over me, the animals used to this now, come out to watch with me. I wonder what they feel, what they know, what they sense.  They spent most of daylight in the pole barn, under shelter, keeping hooves dry, getting away from the flies, their eyes streaming with tears. This afternoon, I waited with my camera for the daily storm, the Wednesday storm, and it seemed, as always, a beautiful thing, a thing sent with messages for me that I can’t yet read. There is beauty in everything, I see, including the Wednesday storm. I think the storm called out to me to pay attention, but I wasn’t sure to what, it rushed overhead.