Bags of Gold
Several nearby supercells and a short squall line had merged into a rainy mess, with an “anchor storm” far down on the southern end and out of reach. [The backsheared anvil and overshooting top from that storm is at distant lower right in this plate.] When the active intercept was done, we had two options: give up and head to Lubbock for dinner and lodging, or go west of the slop first for a scenic sunset. The reward waiting behind that western door was hundreds of bags of gold, treasures not in the form of metal but instead cloud. Yes, overhead shone a visual splendor, fields of mammatus spanning horizons; but there was more. Distant thunder rumbled while I inhaled the uncommonly clean aroma of a desperately thirsty Texas-New Mexico borderland, newly washed by that same stormy sky. With eyes closed (but not for long!) the cool and moist breeze felt fresh as a waterfall. It was a sensory immersion, full and good, peace spawned by a tempest, a thirst within likewise quenched.
17 ENE Crossroads NM (13 Jun 3) Looking SE
33.4907, -103.1257