At least I was in the back yard where no one could see me. And maybe the thunder drowned out the sound of the lawn mower, but I doubt it.

A glance at last Saturday’s forecast showed rain moving in mid-morning. A look out the window and the ever-thickening grass told me exactly what I had to do. I had an interview scheduled north of Stockton that morning and needed to drop by Baldwin County High School. I had planned on easing to the office to edit pictures and get a little work done.

But the threat of rain told me that the work I would be doing would start with the word ‘yard.’

I had fun talking with Leslie Smith about the history of the Red Hill Spring. I pray I am half that active when I turn 95. I headed south to Bay Minette. A check of the weather radar showed a band of heavy rain south of town, but I noticed a small dark cloud getting bigger on the horizon. The folks donating their times and sweat to clean up the high school grounds were fixing to get an early shower, thanks to Mother Nature.

Since digital cameras don’t really get along with rain, I decided to get my pictures and go. As I headed south, I hit the aforementioned rain. It was raining hard too. Nobody on Highway 59 was trying to do 65 mph. The closer I got to home, the skies got lighter and the roads got drier. I wasted little time changing clothes and getting outside behind the lawnmower.

 The front yard is a little sparse as it continues to fill in. I cut some blades of grass but it looked like I was mostly taking the tops off seedpods. I continued to scan the skies. Instead of dark clouds, it was just overcast. No sun was good, keeping it from being too hot, but the humidity was so high that all I had to do is take a deep breath to stave off dehydration.

Figuring I hadn’t sweated enough, I opened the gate and moved the mower into the back yard. Now the grass in the backyard is much, much thicker and luxurious in spots. So I have been mowing it on a higher setting. With rain in the near future, I forgot to readjust the mower. The extra quarter-inch off the top wasn’t going to hurt the grass or me. But it did mean I had to stop after just four passes around the backyard to empty the grass catcher. After five more passes, it was the same story. Stop. Unhook bag. Walk over and dump the clippings. Trudge back. Yank on the cord and keep mowing.

But then things changed. It started to sprinkle. I was more than halfway done with the backyard and decided to keep going. The raindrops got bigger but I kept going. When the rain then started to slack off, I thought I was in luck.

I was wrong. The drops got a lot bigger and I could hear thunder over the drone of the mower. I knew if I stopped, the grass would get soaked and it would be the next day before I could finish. So I started ‘pushing’ the walk-behind mower to pick up the pace. The area to be mowed kept getting smaller and smaller as the rain got harder and harder. The grass catcher needed emptying, but there was no way I was going to stop at that point.

I wondered if anyone knew what I was doing. I know there were a couple of cars across the street at the neighborhood pool. Hopefully they were too busy huddling and watching for lightning to notice the crazy man across the street intent on finishing the job.

William Moore is the Senior Editor at Gulf Coast Newspapers. He can be reached at wmoore@gulfcoastnewspapers.com