Lightning

It is late. And I am tired. This became particularly apparent to me moments ago, when I honestly sat and thought for a good 30 seconds what the title of this post should be, and the best I could come up with is this. Lightning.

Now this post-naming process is one that you, as the reader, are not otherwise privy to. Normally, you just read the title and get crackin' on the content. But tonight I thought I might get the ball rolling with that quick anecdote. To break the ice, so to speak.

As the deep and intellectually-stimulating title suggests, I am about to talk about a topic that rates in my top 5 of Most Favorite things in the World. I'm serious here. (the other 4 can be a future post)

Now I know it is well past midnight, and I am - for some reason - still awake. While listening to some music in bed (Fruit Bats are dominating my iTunes as of late), I heard what I mistakenly, and frighteningly, thought to be a person banging on our front door.

Taking off my headphones, I tiptoed to the front door, and then out back, to learn the rumbling noise to be of a distant and rapidly approaching thunder storm. As mentioned, lightning is one of those things in life that entertain, mystify and just flat out cheer me up to no end.

As I stood on the back deck of my house, facing the westward sky I watched the lightning grow closer and more massive with each strike. It was one of those moments, like in the movie Twister, where the air is eerily calm aside from the cool breeze that is slowly building. The wind is all you can hear in between each roll of thunder. The sky is a black onyx in between each lightning flash.

I was reminded of those summer nights as a young kid when my dad would pull us out of bed and round us up on the screened-in porch at our house in PA to watch lightning storms. I think this tradition is likely where my obsession with them stems from. The smell of the summer rain showers, the tremors that you feel even in your stomach from the passing thunder, the futile efforts to calculate how far away the storm was by counting the time in between lightning and its thunderous shadow.

It was from this same porch that I used to post up, camera in hand, and wait for that perfect National Geographic-esque photo of a ginormous lightning bolt dissecting the midnight sky. Too many times, I was too astounded by the enormity and magnificence of the lightning to remember to click a picture.

What's funny to me now, is how quickly I am reminded of home by such a geographically-neuter occurrence. I'm sure I have witnessed similar storms in a wide variety of locations (instantly, I can think of: Tallahassee, FL; Orlando, FL; Albuquerque, NM; Nashville, TN; Philadelphia, PA; Montego Bay, Jamaica; etc.).

What's even funnier is my childish attraction to it all. Like an infant discovering its foot, I am endlessly enthralled by the concept of visible energy streaking across the sky. I can admit it. The fact I am able to write this right now is a feat in and of itself. I was forced to cut deals with myself to even pull myself away from the porch, bargaining that "after the next one I'll go in...." That turns into "after the next one", and then the next one, etc.

Luckily, Mother Nature took care of me and played the trump card: rain. So now it's off to bed for this guy.

Goodnight yall.