When you live in Maine, you get use to long winters and short summers. About ten days ago we were all crying about the excessive heat and humidity, the dew points, the oppressive conditions. We had forgotten momentarily where we live. We forgot that old adage about New England: "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute!"
I never really gets hot in Maine. I think the all time record in Portland was 102 and I can only remember twice in the last 30 years when it was at the century mark. We also know that August is one of the greatest months in our state because every year, just about now, the middle of the month, we get that first blast of sweet Canadian air, dry, and crisp.
So, it came as no real surprise when I ended up closing the windows last night after a particularly wild thunderstorm. I had missed the storm in July when the trees were blown down, but this one was up there in severity including strong winds, small hail and, as the weathermen like to say, frequent lightning. It was very concentrated and lasted only about 30 minutes. But the temperature dropped about 10 degrees in that short period and never recovered. It was a right bit nippy last night!
But, it was perfect sleeping weather and I woke late and refreshed.
Here's a little picture of the fuschia on my porch after the thunderstorm, as well as the rainbow that followed.