I don't know what woke me up, but the percussive sound tickled at the edge of half-awake hearing...
Huh. The neighbor just chucked a wine bottle into her recycling bin. But why is the bin still empty on Thu...
Oh, jeez, that sounds like gunfire in a house nearby. That's a lotta shots, though. Maybe IMPD has some dude corne...
Holy_! There was no time between the flash and the noise, and then the sound of fat raindrops smacking the window mixed with the clatter of the occasional hailstone clattering on the patio.
From the audio alone, it was obvious that if I'd been standing on open prairie instead of in a bed in a house in a wooded city, I'd have been able to watch this thunderboomer come striding at me on legs of lighting.
A bit of a break in the drought, finally.
When the TeeWee came on, the morning drive-time traffic chick was showing live footage of one of the traffic cams. In a bit of unusual frankness (or an example of internal monologue becoming external) she intoned "...And here's the intersection of Number and State and... the signal appears to be out. The drivers should be treating this as a four-way stop, which they're not. We're going to have a wreck here." Then she segued to the state of the local interstates.