On Friday afternoon, the kids and I ran a few errands, to the library and then to Target to start buying school supplies. (Yes, SCHOOL SUPPLIES. For KINDERGARTEN OMG.) As we parked at Target, we could see dark clouds a little to the west, with streaky lines of rain. It was a cool sight, so Henry, Eleanor and I loitered in the parking lot for a few minutes to cloud-watch.
As we exited Target, the wet parking lot signaled a shower had come through while we were shopping. We drove the few miles back to our house. As I got close to our street, I started seeing leaves strewn everywhere. Hmmm, that’s weird, I thought.
We pulled onto our strangely foggy street. Hmmm, since when does a little rain make it look like the Thriller video? I thought.
We got home to a driveway that had turned green with leaves.
It was obvious we had had a storm, but I still didn’t quite understand until I saw it.
HOLY HAIL, BATMAN.
Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a straight-up hailstorm, with piles of hail still stacked everywhere and melting. And while we missed the storm itself, the aftermath was pretty WHOA.
Our neighbor’s yard had a spot under a gutter that looked like somebody dumped out their cooler.
Not sure how long these had been melting (at least 20+ minutes) but they were the largest hailstones I’ve ever seen. I guess marble- and quarter-sized hail is an actual thing instead of just something that gets mentioned on the news. And how do meteorologists pick the size comparisons, anyway? Why not grape-sized hail, for example?
And the LEAVES. All over the street, the driveway, on the branches felled in my yard, and stuck in bits and pieces all the way up my house.
Leaves from the trees in my front yard covered the deck in my back yard.
Once we got over the surprise, we did the only thing one can do when it’s been a miserably hot 100°-most-days summer and you come home to a yard full of ice. We played in it.
Henry and Eleanor loved running through the fog while shouting about their cold feet.
And, of course, ice fight.
Henry yelled “taaaaaaaaake THAT!” every time he advanced to throw a handful of hail.
The strangest thing about this strange afternoon was that it seemed to be concentrated just on our little street. A neighbor passing by remarked that she had been driving the area and our street was the only one to look like it did.
Buying school supplies, then coming home to a yard full of hail and downed greenery? I think we can draw only one conclusion from this. Mother Nature is just as freaked out about Henry and Eleanor starting kindergarten as I am. I mean, that’s gotta be it, right? So please quit growing so fast, kids. THE EARTH DEMANDS IT.