September 1, 2015
Yesterday, the weather report for much of southern France was on alert orange, predicting the incoming storm would have a significant impact on the affected areas. Indeed, at 9:30 p.m., winds blew in sheets of rain, one after the other, for two hours. The lightning behaved like strobe lights, never touching the ground, but constantly flashing white and illuminating the sky for miles, before going dark and flashing again. The lightning never touched the ground, but it didn't seem a good idea to hang out my bedroom window, so I watched the deluge seated on my bed.
All day the sky had been grey and flat, the atmosphere hot, heavy and humid. The pressure built until the electricity had to release itself, which led not just to the strobe effect, but to a sound in the distance like a roll on the kettledrums. The showers made a whooshing sound like a whisper. Occasionally a car could be seen emerging from the dirt road that begins down the hill from the house, la voie du point casse. I pitied anyone out in the storm. And in fact, near Montauban, two people were killed when a tree fell on their car.
The storm brought the temperature down and by its end there was a lovely coolness in the air. Those who know told me that the rain would make the land between the row muddy, but that would only delay the harvest a day or two: it would have no effect on the grapes.
After a hot summer, the coolness is welcome: once the storm passed, I slept with the window open. This morning the sky was brilliant and the sun came out and began drying up all the rain.
Children returned to school today, last night's storm marking a definite end to summer's pleasures. Fall is on the way.
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