I was performing a standing meditation in the beautiful, humid, hot rain when I got clocked on the head. No, it was not a cosmic 2×4, (at least, not as I know them) it was freaking hail. This is the second time this week I have seen hail inside the city. I can’t remember if or how often I saw it when I lived in Mankato, but I do remember it from my childhood in Indiana. I have, in fact, been clocked in the head by hail twice before in my life – once, right on the crown for an eye-crossing and painful moment. I don’t remember how old I was, I just remember the pain, my eyes blurring, and refocusing on my parents’ 1969 Pontiac Catalina, the ugliest thing I’d ever seen since I first saw an army tank.
Since I JUST transplanted some flowers at a delicate stage, I had to think quick and covered them with a flower box that I’d changed my mind about doing transplants to. This is the second hail storm this week, and it does terrible things to crops at delicate times. Here’s hoping it’s the last one this year.
