Wild Storms – Day 515

Tree Lightning – Photo: L. Weikel

Wild Storms

I recently wrote about the intense lightning storm we had the other night. The astonishing and relentless strings of flashes that seemed to reach into our bedroom from all directions to shake us awake were intensely brilliant. And I know I mentioned it before, but the lack of accompanying thunder was eerie.

Today, I was sitting on our porch writing when I looked up and noticed some very bruised looking clouds amassing on the western horizon. In only a few minutes, the wind started whipping around, flinging our Christmas tree (which we leave outside near the feeders to give shelter to the birds through the springtime) into the side of Karl’s car and slamming our front door open. I ran to shut that door again and as I returned to the porch I saw a burst of searing brilliance at the corner of our road as a transformer blew.

Seeing those sparks arc halfway across the roadway made me realize just how different this social isolation would be if all of us weren’t so connected in so many other ways. Hail started clattering onto the porch and bouncing off our kitchen door.

Brilliant Sunshine

Only a few hours later, Karl and I were back out taking our daily perambulation. The only remnants of the wildness of the earlier storms were the literal logs that had broken off in the maelstrom and been strewn in the roadway in at least three places.

But the day was crystal clear and all the pollen had been wiped clean from every leaf.

Too bad I couldn’t capture in a photo the lightning of the other evening. But I did manage to ‘snag’ a shot of a different type of lightning. I call it ‘tree lightning,’ which is – well, certainly safer photograph!

Time for me to get to bed. I stayed up way too late last night, feeling sure the glitch in my server would be fixed at any moment and I’d be able to publish my post in a timely manner.

Guess I had that wrong.

But I’d be remiss if I didn’t include at least one rainbow photo from the day before yesterday. The colors were simply breathtaking. Surely the rainbows were a message that we must not give in to the sadness, worry, and fear all around us. We must dig deep and find our hope.

I can do that – at least today I can.

Full arcing (double) rainbow – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-596)