Wail, Hail | Mexico | Living in Mexico

Wail, Hail

When we lived on our mountaintop in Sonoma County, California, we'd get hailstorms two or three times a year. We've never experienced even one during four years in Mexico. Yesterday, that changed.


This is not happening in chilly weather. Must have been 85º.

It started out as a typical tropical rainy season thunderstorm: intense, violent, noisy. Our Boston Terrier, Rosie, snuggled up next to my leg, shaking as she does whenever there's thunder or fireworks. Poor thing.

Suddenly the courtyard was filling up with hailstones the size of garbanzo beans.


Much of our living space communicates with courtyards through open archways. Ice, ricocheting off paving stones, started to accumulate on our carpets and upholstered furniture. The responsible members of the household broke out mops and squeegees. I broke out my camera.

Twenty minutes later it was all over. I looked around, assessing the damage. Broad-leafed tropical plants haven't evolved to withstand hail. This Plumeria tells it all.


One of my former English students, Arturo, was visiting. He told me he thought that the last hailstorm in San Miguel was in 1980. That would have been before he was born. At this rate, odds are good I won't be around to see another one.