The Great Lightning Storm

Today I was lucky enough to experience a second natural wonder this year. During the rainy season, I was moved to write about the incredible appearance of Kaname Falls. Tonight, it was a late-summer thunderstorm that passed over our area and lit up the sky for nearly an hour.

I was sitting down to watch a movie when I noticed frequent flashes in the background behind my television set. On more than one occasion, a nearly perfect vertical strike was visible. The sound of the thunder filled the air like so many giant explosions. It made me realize how much I love a good lightning storm.

Still, I love a good movie nearly as much, and as it was still raining outside, I wasn't yet compelled enough to go out to the balcony.

Later, however, the rain stopped, as did the terrific explosions. I thought maybe the storm had passed, and continued enjoying the film, which was turning out to be one of the best I had rented this year. But still, in the background, light flashed continuously, and silently. It was beautiful - the light catching the cloud tops and turning the darkness into near daylight. When I realized that such a show was far rarer than the $1 movie rental on my TV screen, I wasted about two seconds before getting outside.

As I stepped out of my apartment, I saw that the rain had indeed ceased, and it was much quieter - peaceful even, perhaps a common observation after a violent heavenly outburst.

But the visual spectacle which was to follow was far from common, and by far the most incredible light show I have ever seen.

Once in the walkway outside my apartment, I moved to the stairwell that leads to the third story apartments, and ascended to the halfway point between the two levels. There is a small landing there which made a good lookout point with a panoramic view of the surrounding hillsides. From this vantage, I witnessed what ancient peoples might have described as a war of the gods.

Just above the line of hills dimly visible in the darkness there came periodic flashes which lit up the clouds. The flashes were frequently bright enough to illuminate nearly the whole sky. Usually the bolt was hidden from view, but every so often, a small arc would be visible in amongst the clouds. The thunder which before made the whole building shake was reduced to a rumble-in-the-distance variety.

After witnessing about three or four decent-sized arcs, I felt I had been moved enough and decided to head back in. I got about a third of the way before I turned back for more. This was a lightning storm after all, with nearly perfect conditions for viewing; how often does this happen?

Boy was I sure glad I turned back. Apparently the clouds over the distant hillsides had gradually been moving in our direction, because the modest-sized arcs I had been watching grew larger and more spectacular every minute. My eyes were glued to the ceiling of clouds for the better part of twenty minutes. I was not disappointed for ten seconds during that time, enjoying both the invisible bolts that set the clouds gently aglow, as well as the piercing, white-hot bolts that burned their images into my eyeballs and my memory.

The bolts seemed to develop in complexity as they moved closer. While the first long arcs set my heart leaping, soon that same muscle was gorging on various displays of shape and trajectory. I watched one arc travel across the sky from cloud to cloud, starting in the distance and ending nearly above our building. Other strikes formed deltas of light in the sky as they branched nearly identically like a terrestrial river. But perhaps the most moving spectacle was a circular arc that my gaze caught spot-on. The fact that scientifically it could not have been have been a circle dulled the experience of seeing a giant halo in the night sky by about 1/100 of a percent. It appeared to float amongst the clouds (for as long as a bolt of lighting may be considered to float) and its luminescence made the surrounding area seem nothing short of heavenly. It was the diadem of a perfect evening of natural splendor.

I turned back one more time before heading in for good, and when I did finally make it back indoors to write this account, I returned completely satisfied. Perhaps the only thing that could've made the evening more impacting would have been if I had been struck myself. Truly a night of nights, and a fitting companion to my day of days back in June.