Wednesday, September 22, 2010

She Peed, She Burped, She Flashed

A thunderstorm rolled through here this afternoon like a goat in heat. I mean, it didn’t even slow down long enough to say, “How do you do?” It blew a lot of rain at us for a few minutes, made loud noises and tossed some light displays around the area and then it was gone without so much as a fare-thee-well.

What I really like is a good thunderstorm (or set of them, as I think they hang out in cells) which lasts for hours. Some good cloud-cloud lightning, some excellent cloud-ground stuff you can see from the beach or a high building. Good, soul-satisfying thunderclaps. Of this is the stuff of tall tales made.

I like it now, but I didn’t like it then. There was a period of my life when lightning frightened me badly. Terrified me. I don’t know why, but one time I had to choose between checking out my best friend’s ham radio antenna and avoiding being out in a lightning storm. He really wanted me to go with him; I just couldn’t.

Then I noticed, one day, it didn’t make any difference. Well, it did when the bolts struck nearby and the thunder indicated it was less than a quarter mile. Quite possibly that would happen to anyone with an ounce of self-preservation. There is only so much bravery in any one of us; then it’s time to cut and run.

I was once inside the cone of thunder. Lightning hit the tower of a radio station I was at and the thunder started outside of where I was standing. Was. No more.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

The bravest or most folish person I know , or knew, was the guy who insisted on playing golf during a T-Storm ....He'd have probably done pretty good but never made it to the 18th fact the only hole he saw after that was the one they buried him in...

Exit 318

September 23, 2010 4:02 PM  

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