All Hail -- Hail!

We can all hum songs, recite rhymes, and explain away the soppy rains of April, but I can’t allow this notoriously moist month to relegate itself to the simplistic flip of a calendar page without mentioning rain’s angry bastard cousin – hail.

Hail is, in essence, rain gone wrong. It forms in thunderstorm clouds when, because of intense updrafts and high liquid content, the cloud layer freezes the rain. Because of its propensity for upward winds, hail it common on mountaintops. Hail becomes large when it’s still wet, connecting with other hailstones, and eventually falling from the sky, heavy enough at times to cause very serious damage to any thing or person vulnerable and exposed.

Several weeks back…it was a dark and stormy night (really, it was), particularly foggy with looming thunder off in the distance. March was turning into April, and it was a slow drive in the early spring mist up the mountain towards my Pennsylvania retreat. The rain began, and then, finally, a heavier rain, accompanied by crashing thunder. Cars were pulling over, and so, I followed suit. Once in a church parking lot, I watched the rain transform into small white pebbles – the size of perfect marbles, and with as much power and resilience. I opened my window and reached my hand out to experience the full event. The hail arsenal started as a small battle, and then raged into a full war on the car, drumming on the hood with all its might, leaving its deceased—white, and fully formed--on the surrounding pavement.

This was certainly not my first hailstorm. Perhaps my third, but certainly the most eventful. I found myself saddened when sensibility determined it was all right to drive back to the house because the hail was gone for now, and perhaps not coming back anytime soon. There is something to be said for a furious downpour, but the hail was an event, something much more mystical. A true phenomenon.

If April showers bring Mayflowers, what do hailstorms bring? Fun.