I woke up this morning with a thunder clap. In this summer of drought in the MidWest, the rain was both welcomed and a bit of a novelty; the sound of drops on the roof, water rushing through the gutters, the lightning strobes in the sky, the cool air and the smell of fresh rain: all like familiar friends not seen for months.
It rained most of the morning, and then settled into a typical August Indiana day — hot and humid. The concept of “dry” heat is not well understood in this part of the country. Another front came through around 9pm this evening and soon a constant, soaking rain began. Around 10, though, the pace quickened and suddenly giant buckets were being emptied. When it didn’t subside after a few minutes, I did a tour of the lower level of the house to see if we had any belongings floating. Although not a problem in our house, the local news shows have been warning that the ground is so dry, flooding is a possibility. I was thankful that all was dry.
As I returned upstairs I noticed the sheets of water falling over the sides of the gutters. Grateful that I didn’t need to spend any time mopping up floors and moving items above a tide line, I realized that I had a photo opportunity awaiting me just on the other side of my dining room window.
I had expected to get a shot like this: water cascading over the sides of the gutter, flowing in front of the outside lights. A few trees are barely visible in the background.
I expected a few not to turn out well. I laughed at this mistake. The window looks like it has been slimed! Do poltergeists travel on rain clouds?
I also expected a few like this one, a bit of an abstract that potentially could be changed in post-processing, an image that I could have fun playing with. I’d likely crop that annoying flash reflection in the lower right corner.
But what surprised me were the following shots. Like looking at clouds, you could dream up all sorts of shapes in these images.
Is this a disembodied hand creepily reaching out through the dark night?
Is this Venus de Milo dancing?
Is a spider’s web holding up through the storm, funneling the water like rocks at the top of a river’s fall?