As I walked out of the plant to my car on Monday afternoon the sun was bright and the wind was blowing hard. A memory of years gone by went through my mind. I remember second recess at our elementary school on days like this. My best friend and I would play on the playground. We would run hard against the wind as we played tag or we would sit in the green clover patches and make clover flower necklaces and bracelets. When I started the car and as I was leaving the parking lot I told my friend Stacy the happy memory.

That night as I was trying to fall asleep I looked out my window. I enjoy looking out that window. The wind was still strong as it swept through the screen and blew the coolness of the Spring season directly into my face. I loved it and I loved to observe the scenery. A field that for most of the year was full of tall wild golden colored grass serenely displayed itself. Once during the Fall I saw some deer running through it. Past the field in the distance I saw the town's post office. I always take a few seconds to look at the spotlighted American flag solemnly waving in the air there. Our side of town is quiet at this time as it oughta be. Across from the post office and on the other side of the road confidently stands the new high school sports complex. I haven't been in it since it was finished a few months back.

Still a few miles farther southeast lies the Interstate. A road filled with giant semis which keep our local area and our nation moving. The Interstate divides into Highway 412 and Route 66 which was once the highway of the nation. Our small suburban town is a pit stop for truckers and when you drive around them you learn to respect their power and stay clear when they move. On this night the interstate was busy with noise. I could't really see the cars from so far away. But I liked to hear the sound of the high speed vehicles zooming past on the high traffic road. Once in the very early hours when I listened out my window I couldn't hear a single vehicle and wondered why it wasn't busy that time.

When I awoke very early on Tuesday morning the strong wind was still blowing. It still felt good as it blew into our bedroom. In my mind I began to wonder if the strong wind was going to quickly bring a far away storm to our area. I got dressed and left for work like I usually do.

At first break I could no longer see the bright sunshine of yesterday. The skies were now gray. I was hoping this would bring rain. By the end of the workday the thunder had begun. Even in our very noisy manufacturing plant we could hear the sky rumble. Workers in different areas would "ooooooh" and "aaaahhh" When the thunderous sounds were impressively loud. I told Patty and Gerald that I worked next to that after work was over I hoped the thunder meant rain because I like to drive in the rain. To my glad surprise when I looked outside it was pouring. Probably about 50 people were crowded under the dry porch area in front of the building. I pulled the hood of my dark blue sweat jacket over my head and zipped it up all the way. I looked at the rain. There was hail. I asked a few people around me if hail that size (smaller than a dime) would hurt when it hits you. One guy said no because it was so small. I wasn't going to wait like everyone else. I like the rain. I don't care if I got wet. My wet clothes aren't gonna ruin my old car anyway. It was fun. The rain blew on me and the little pellets didn't hurt. When they hit it was more like an itch and not a sting or a pound. As I drove home through the town of Owasso the hail got larger and there was more of it. Sometimes the hail hit my car so hard it sounded as if it could break the glass but it didn't. I probably got some hail damage on the body of the car but I haven't checked yet. It doesn't really matter anyway. The car is too old to report anything. I still liked driving in the hailstorm. It was kind of adventurous.

When I look through my bedroom window now its calm. All the hail that looked like extra gravel scattered all over the road and on the grass has melted. When I listen through the window I no longer feel a strong spring wind in my face. The wind is gentle and I simply hear bugs proudly humming their dutiful tunes in the dimly lit landscape of the field that lies on the other side of the fence near my home.