The thunderstorm rolled in about 4 AM and shook the double wide that functions as support staff housing for Ebert Ranch. Lisa will tell you that I usually sleep through thunderstorms (unless Mr. Spud steps on me trying to get to safety under the covers) but this was the kind of strike that could wake the dead or give Mr. Spud a heart attack. It was still raining and rumbling at noon and by late afternoon the horses were drinking out of the windmill pond that was dry as a bone yesterday. By mid week Ebert ranch will be ablaze with color as the wild flowers that have been waiting for just such a soaking will take full advantage of the rain. I'm tempted to do a Trinity two step and make some kind of inadequate analogy but let's just say the wisdom established before time that is the majestic name above all the earth who justifies us through faith by the truth that we cannot fully bear is as terrifying as a lightning strike that makes the air sizzle, as welcome as a pond full of water in a year long drought and as indescribably beautiful as a Texas Hill Country ranch blanketed in wildflowers.
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