The rain now becomes a torrent， f？lung capriciously by a rising wind. Together they batter the trees and level the grasses. Water streams off roofs and out of rain spouts. It pounds against the window in such a steady wash that I am sightless. There is only water. How can so much fall so fast？ How could the clouds have supported this vast weight？ How can the earth endure beneath it？
Pacing through the house from window to window， I am moved to open-mouthed wonder. Look how the lilac bends under the assault， how the day lilies are f？lattened， how the hillside steps are a newmade waterfall！ Now hailstones thumps upon the roof. They bounce white against the grass and splash into the puddles. I think of the vegetable garden， the fruit trees， the crops in the f？ields； but， thankfully， the hailstones are not enough in numbers or size to do real damage. Not this time.