Hail on the Water

Months ago, in Mongolia, we were on our way to visit a family that raised and lived off of reindeer when a storm came up. I was so glad our boat came equipped with a hard top. It began to hail. The hail stones never got to be any larger than the size of a pea, but that’s more than enough if you can’t get away from them.

I’d never before been on the water when hail hit. Each stone made a little bulls-eye of ripples as it splashed down. Millions of little circles spreading out over the choppy waves gave the water such an odd look. I stared it it in amazement.

Then, of course, I tried to get some pictures. Well, that was pathetic. With the boat lunging all over the place and the rain on the windows and the waves and circles all in motion and not much in the way of sun, I didn’t have much chance. This was the best of the lot.

Now, with Christmas looming, I’m getting a dusting of hail again. Only this time it’s totally boring. No waves. Not at these temperatures! Not much wind and no boat. The hail stones are so tiny they might be confused with snow except for a close look. And it isn’t exactly unusual around here.

I guess time and place really does make a difference.