Prairie storms are so weird. Blue sky above, and pouring rain from a light grey cloud that doesn’t appear to be overhead. It’s the wind that carries the rain. Or sometimes a downright torrential downpour under a thick dark cloud that people anxiously watch for signs of a tornado. Flooding everywhere on flat land with little in the way of drainage ditches. Flooded underpasses, swollen creeks threatening to breach man-made bermed banks, trees crashing down in the wind.
Love ’em or hate ’em, prairie storms give character and define time and place in this flat open land. “Remember the Regina cyclone of 1912?” “Where were you when the creek overflowed it’s banks?” “Remember canoeing the golf course?” “Hi honey, I’m stuck at Tim Horton’s with a flat tire and soaked to the skin.” “Let’s go help sandbag the creek.”
But then there’s the bright green grass and smell of rain after the storm has moved on. All of nature comes awake and starts to sing…figuratively and literally. Birds take to song and flowers shine brighter than they did before. We need the water, but my, the getting of it can be something else!