The day was apparently pleasant throughout. The morning gave only a small hint of the wonderous temperatures to last throughout most of the day -- notwithstanding that one client said that it was up to 98 in Lawrence in the mid-afternoon. But come 6 pm, the skies became strangely dark. What? Dark in the mid-early-evening of near the longest day of the year? It should have given hint; or fright.
A pleasant stream of sprinkles started just before I left the office for my way home; only to turn more ominous and less "pleasant" the further I made my way across the parking lot. The lightening in the north-northeast should also have given pause. Barely across the bridge near the office and I could barely see out of my sunglasses. Half way down the street and the wind was picking up, the lightening coming closer, the rain coming stronger and harder.
Luckily, I made it half way home (87th and Antioch) before the skies let go, the winds came full force, and the lightening came from overhead. A stop to catch my breath and to let my rain-soaked cycling shoes lose some of their massive drenching was in order. A full 10-minutes worth. But then it was up for another attempt to get as far as possible before the next deluge. But the winds persisted and lightening, though less frequent as before came nonetheless.
Another half -- this time a half-of-a-half (a quarter) of the way further home I went before it seemed again prudent to stop and wait for the gathering lightening to pass, the horizontal rain to subside (if only a bit) and the wind to lessen. Another 10-minutes talking to others who were also stranded at the QuickShop (though from their car, rather than bike) caught out trying to buy dogfood for their hapless canine who insisted on chowing while the weather rattled. A pleasant conversation, broken frequently by strong flashes and loud clashes.
The last quarter was not nearly as harrowing, but no less wet or windy. The stoplights gave little comfort in their insistence on keeping their regular evening timing; waiting for all the cars to come through. . . that did not. Stopping me, the lone cyclist, from getting home to safe, non-lighteninged home.
Brush Creek was higher than I've seen it all year; and, if fact, for some time prior to that. No pictures unfortunately, but that may come in a bit if my camera doesn't become waterlogged. But, at least I'm home.