The Aftermath

According to the radar we were on the edge of the storm. It looked like the ‘bad stuff’ was to the north of us. Right over our pasture and the bigger wheat fields. I was worried sick about my cows. My husband was mourning the loss of his wheat fields. Looking good this year and almost read for harvest.

We couldn’t get over to look until the next day, the storm came at dusk and it as dark by the time it finished.

Then my husband was busy with other work and couldn’t come at all. The kids and I headed over. By the time we got to the end of our neighbors field of corn, right next door, we had gotten out of the hail. The south end of the field was destroyed. The north end was untouched. I knew there had been hail by the pasture. I had seen video of it. But maybe not as awful as we had feared?

After a strip undamaged I came to another swath where everything had been destroyed. It was like mother nature had raked her finger nails across the earth. Strips that hadn’t been touched mixed with lines of destruction.

The cows fell in the untouched part and a couple small wheat fields.

Then bad again at the big wheat field. How bad? It’s hard to say. The wheat is still standing but the hard brittle stems, so painfully close to being ready to harvest had let loose their fruit. The ground is scattered with wheat broken loose and lost. Only the yield at harvest will let us know just how much was lost.

We were lucky though. The corn is battered, but still there. It might be early enough in the season that it can regrow? The garden looks rough. But all in all is doing alright.

Just a little farther east of us the storm got even worse. We had gotten much larger hail here on the south end of the storm and it kept getting bigger as it went. Our neighbors a mile east has trees down. Another couple miles on friends had entire fields stripped bare. Nothing left of corn or beans. Gardens beat down to bare dirt. We got lucky and are thankful for it.

My husband mourns the hard work, heart and soul, and effort that went into the crops. The money lost. The death of the crop and the love that went into it.

I mourn our swimming pool. The kids and I had spent the whole day just a couple days before this getting the spot ready and the pool set up and filled. Waiting for it to warm, we hadn’t even swam in it. The ping pong sized hail hurled at the ground had poked hole all the way around the inflatable top. We tried filling it with pool noodles. A hopeless but slightly entertaining attempt at salvaging our beloved pool. But they did nothing to stop the water from spilling over the edges. I forced the kids out to try to swim in it this weekend, resulting in the pool emptying half the water.

Oh well. We’ll need to empty it anyway.

We’ll miss that pool, it’s been a good one.