The wind and the ceremony picked up speed. The wedding party and most of the guests got to the reception hall before the sky darkened and the downpour hit. Ominously, the power had already gone out. Candles were lit, making the party quite festive, even though we were told of tornado warnings and where to take shelter if need be.

Amateur weather scientist that I am, I went outside onto the spacious lawn of the Dunrovin Christian Brothers Retreat Center, in Marine on Saint Croix. I stood alone watching the ragged clouds. The center sits on the banks of the Saint Croix, and moist surface winds had been blowing across the river from east to west  seemingly an unusual flow at such latitudes. Now, things reversed.

A dark frontal system approached from the west, the line of clouds churning, bolts of horizontal lightning flashing from cloud to cloud like something out of a Frankenstein movie. I’d never seen anything like it. Meteorologists say horizontal lightning is common, but often hidden in the clouds. A cool wind came up. The thunder grew louder.

Carole Anne joined me on the lawn. We watched the front approach and exchanged an intimate word or two. We hugged. Just then, hail began to fall, hard and fast.

Image Credit... Bill Lloyd

Hailstones form in the updrafts of thunderstorms as rain soars into colder regions, freezing and growing larger as droplets fuse. The stronger the updraft, the larger the hail. When hailstones become heavier than the lifting force of the updraft, they fall. The wide open spaces of the Midwest aid the formation of storms with big hail and tornados.