Nature put on a light show last night that would rival anything on the Las Vegas strip, accompanied by deafening drum rolls. All the kids were tucked into barn and coop, and I was fixing dinner when I noticed that the clouds were behaving strangely, dropping down to cover the surrounding hilltops and quickly darkening. Then the first lightning strike lit up the sky, and it wasn't too far away. It is said that you can tell the distance if you count, "one one-thousand, two one-thousand," etc., from sighting the lightning to hearing the thunder and judge how many miles. As the storm cell moved over, it got to the point where I could count, "One," and never get the one-thousand out before the thunder rolled. That's too darned close for comfort. The only saving grace was that, if a tree were struck by lightning, the accompanying pouring rain would have immediately put out any fire. I was pulling plugs on computer and television and waiting for the power to go out, but we dodged that bullet. The driving rain continued on into the night after the light show moved on.
It's for sure that March came in like a lion. The strong wind and heavy rain of yesterday morning did let up in the afternoon. All the trees remained upright. I had put up another barrier board for the chicks, and went out several times to check on the little cheepers. There are two of the striped ones, and a tiny white one had just come out of the shell. By nightfall, it was running around with the others. The water level had dropped in the waterer, so maybe we're past that hurdle. I am so hoping.
Before the evening's drama, I had watched a comedy yesterday morning. The turkey flock that had been moving through Joel and Judy's vineyard flew over the fence to come to breakfast under my oak...all but one, who misjudged and landed in the goat pen. As my friend Linda says, some village is missing its idiot, because this goofy bird forgot how it got into the pen in the first place and ran the fence lines, calling, "Wait for me!" The goats were out and munching alfalfa, and finally the turkey said, "Oh, what the heck," and moved into the center of the herd and ate with them. Meanwhile, on the outside of the pen, a tom was chatting up a hen turkey, and was trying to impress her with his display of fanned tail and spread wings. His macho posturing was foiled by the wind that blew his tail feathers up over his head like a girl's skirts, exposing his pantaloons and nether parts. Sometimes you just have to laugh.