This image was taken 60 minutes and 37 seconds after the previous blogged image. With such precision our cameras plot our every shot. It was, I had hoped, with similar precision that I observed what I thought was the approaching thunderhead. I have no burning desire to be bacon, and at such moments I am aware of a god's presence. I'm also aware of the potential for a good photograph. Yes, precision is crucial.
So the sudden, fat drops of rain were unexpected. The storm was still far off. I dismissed them and kept shooting, waiting longer than normal before stowing and waterproofing my gear. I finally turned around when I heard the rattle of the cow shed's tin roof. Behind me cats, dogs, whole cows were ricocheting tin. The thunderhead I had been watching was in retreat.
So it is that I can tell you with absolute precision when the first rain drops hit my lens, and I packed and fled past the newly planted corn, past the out-to-pasture cow, past the giant silo, and into a tractor shed. It was a splendid, if somewhat smelly, window on the storm.
At the top of Rabbit Hill where one can watch the weather pass, I forgot to look the other way.
