Ping on the roof. A small cone falling?
Ping, ping, ping becomes a rattle.
Slam the windows, move the car.
Ice melts to frog's egg pools.
Yes the veges got another beating. And I'd just swept up all the pine needles brought down by the previous hail storm.
Job 38:22-37 (New International Version)
"Have you entered the storehouses of the snow
or seen the storehouses of the hail,
which I reserve for times of trouble,
for days of war and battle?
What is the way to the place where the lightning is dispersed,
or the place where the east winds are scattered over the earth?
Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain,
and a path for the thunderstorm,
to water a land where no man lives,
a desert with no one in it,
to satisfy a desolate wasteland
and make it sprout with grass?