Oh my goodness! Puppy Shadow and I decided to take our usual morning walk, despite the thunderstormy weather. Started out when it was not raining, and hoped our luck would continue for the hour we would be out.
Ten minutes later, while walking by a store, a woman came out of her car on the way into the store, and said “Not a good day for a walk.” I said, “Actually, it’s fun!” By this time, it had started to rain again, and hard.
A few minutes later, I heard a nearby crack. Started counting seconds . . . Oops! The thunderclap came within one second, so 1/5 of a mile away?
We kept going. Then, suddenly, a bright flash enveloped my entire being. I must not have been actually “hit” by this flash, but I was certainly, somehow, surrounded by it, inside its powerful aura. And the thunderclap? Just as the lightning flash was beginning to fade, it came. So yes, this one was a bit too close for comfort. However, I must admit, I loved it. Felt totally energized afterwards.
It reminded me of those times in my 30s, and 40s, when I would be in difficult situations re: lightning, and then, too, relished the experience. One was with my second husband on a mountain top, huddled inside a rock overhang, with lightning crashing all around us,. That one I did not invite, but the next one I did. And that about ten years later, out camping in mountains, when we encountered a lightning and thunderstorm. My male companion went catatonic; just couldn’t move, he was so scared. Me? I danced in the meadow, really, I’d say, hoping to be hit by lightning.
So, while today’s adventure was, it turned out, “too close for comfort,” I seldom look for comfort, even now, at 76 years old.
And you know, what a way to go that would be! Have I been practicing for my own exit from this body?
On the way back, I kept counting flashes, and their thunderclaps, noticing the timing of each. And amazed. The first one: 9 seconds away; the second one, 8 seconds, the third 7 seconds, the fourth 6 seconds, and the fifth 5 seconds. All within a few minutes as we hastily beat it back home, utterly drenched.
Dan took a picture of us on the porch, afterwards. Shadow looks bedraggled here, but though scared, and looking to me for reassurance, he was up for the experience. My raincoat soaked through. I ended up changing all my clothes, except underwear.