Driven into the ground

Apparently there was a storm the other night. I slept through it. This will come as a surprise to anyone who knows me. Even the cat looked concerned. When I finally did wake up, H told me the thunder had cracked overhead. It poured. I snorted, but the garden backed him up. The lupin was flat and so was the clump of daisies beside it and the hosta eight feet back, yet the delphiniums, lilies, peonies and everything else around stood tall as ever. The storm didn't do that, I said. It looked as if two deer had bedded down. I searched for tracks. There aren't any, H said. Right. I pushed the purple mess aside and kept looking.