Usually when you see hail, it’s tiny – or pebble-sized chunks.

Just…you know, normal hail.

It doesn’t usually look like an iceberg has exploded and thrown it’s waste at you in a rage like a monkey.

We’d already been introduced to the weather out here and its bi-polar nature. We like to think we can go with the flow pretty well from hail dumped down in snow-accumulation quantities to typhoon-force winds that bend the poor trees sideways and send tumbleweeds ripping across the streets on suicide missions.

There was a thunderstorm passing though. We yawned. Those are pretty sudden and frequent here.

It began to hail.

Tink, tink.

It began to hail harder.

Tinktinktinktink!

Hmm, interesting.

Suddenly…

CRASH!! CRASH CRASH CRASH!

Car alarms went off.

Good lord! What in the hell was that?

Is that the hail?! It’s like those ping-pong ball showers on Captain Kangaroo!

Crashing, pounding, various cars shrieking, “OW! I’M HURT!”

It was the hail apocalypse and there was little you could do except watch helplessly, eyes wide in horror, from inside a building somewhere and hope an excited hailstone didn’t crash through the windows.

People stumbled outside after it was over and wept over their new tin-hammered vehicle finishes and grabbed handfuls of the hail-boulders to ooh and ahh over, us included:

We found out later some vehicles had their windshields broken. I think some of the hail stones were seeds because suddenly little corner tent-shops sprang up all over the place advertising dent-repair services.

Dent repair seeds!