The clouds drift by In the hot clear skyA shade of pale white blue.Reflected in a potter's jarWho brought his clay from the river farAway and stained it fire red.The jar, a fountain bubbling cool,Breaks the potter's holding ruleInstead spouts drink for roses pink.
The rain poured down. The gullies and ditches were soon full and water rushed in torrents. A fallen branch washed along the stream and I watched it go—amazed at the power of flowing water. Lightning flashed in huge bolts that television weathermen love to call “deadly” lightning. There is certainly much drama in a storm!... Continue Reading →