There’s been a tornado watch in southern NH this evening, and when we left work the skies were dark, we could hear distant thunder, and it was raining in Concord. A colleague had emailed me to say there was hail the size of softballs in Keene. I got out into the garden as soon as I got home, wanting to beat any coming storm to the perennial bed I’d yet to weed this season. And just to be sure it would rain, I watered all the new plants I’ve put in over the past few days.
But it didn’t rain, radar loops online show the storms blowing south of us, and now the light is low, feeding up from the sun below the horizon. Just moments ago the clouds were holding the light against all the late spring vegetation and the world outside the windows was green — not scary tornado green, but a soft, growing glow. The trees are tossing in the wind and now the clouds are catching the last bits of sun and burning pink and gold. The air is cool and smells like rain, but there is clear sky between the clouds and the dusk is deepening, turning the tall pines black.
Grace Mattern 