A thunderstorm

Yesterday, on the farm, was hot and sultry. Such days in August and even September are not unheard of, but they are not the norm. If they were, this house would have air conditioning. Generally the creek cools the bedroom off enough at night that sleeping is not a problem

This last week, that wasn't how it worked. There had been virtually no breeze, and the heat was intense. Fortunately the farm's irrigation lines are up and working (when they get moved by somebody), or the pastures would be completely dried up.

Because of the heat, I keep an eye out for promising sunsets especially if the clouds are right. Last night the sunset wasn't so spectacular in terms of color. Beautiful where it was but it didn't cover the whole western sky, but there was something very interesting in the cloud formations, kind of a streaking through them that made it different. Perhaps it was an omen for what was coming.

About 12:30 AM, I woke to the crash of thunder and then the flash of the lightning against my closed eyelids. I have been in a lot of thunderstorms but mainly because of growing up in the Columbia River Gorge and traveling. In Tucson, come July, the monsoons kick in and the extravagant, showy storms follow. That house is well situated to pour a glass of wine, open up all of the doors, and sit on the living room sofa to watch the show.

Here at the farm I sometimes will hear storms move up the main Willamette Valley but they are generally farther away. If overhead, they have been short-lived and inner cloud. Last night was different. I heard one of the calves low, the sheep complain, and more rapid flash to crash and decided to get up to watch. Two of the cats were in hiding, but the young black one was as excited as me and raced between screen doors and windows.

Some of my concern was whether fire would go with the lightning that was definitely hitting the ground, but a rain came along and most likely any fires would have been quickly doused. I would guess it lasted less than an hour, but it seemed to be right overhead half that time as there was little time between bolt and thundering crash. I saw one really thick bolt hit the ground directly to the west, no side shoots and straight down-- well as straight as lightning ever gets.

The flashes would brighten the pasture as I watched the cattle move across it heading toward the south, but not in a panic, just that herd way of movement. Mostly the calves were the ones making complaining sounds. The sheep stayed in the barn which the cattle would have been wise to do, but something in their instincts told them to be out there. It's not like they could not be hit. The bolts seemed to be going to all the higher hills around us but it's not as though lightning follows rules. Perhaps they felt it was best to be away from the creek which would mean heading toward the south part of the pasture, under the rim of the road with higher forest above. Since they haven't seen a storm like this before, I have no idea if primal instincts governed their movement-- or just general edginess.

Between crashes, I also heard the wild turkeys gobbling to the east, the coyotes yodeled up the valley. No animal likes lightning much, and I don't blame them because if I was out in it, I'd not have been as impressed either. The instinctive thing for a human would be to get under a tree, but I have seen trees after they have been split apart by the bolts, heard the stories of those killed who sought shelter when it wasn't.

If I am ever out in a storm hiking, with no choice to get out of it, I would do what is now recommended, squat down low as possible and hold that pose until the storm passes. It wouldn't be easy to do or comfortable, but they say lying down leaves more body to travel through if the lightning hits the ground nearby. There are no rules for where lightning will hit although getting off any high ridge would seem to be smart. Thunderstorms come up so fast that it's not always possible to do anything other than experience what is going to be.

I would love to photograph lightning. In Tucson I have taken a lot of photos of storm clouds but haven't gotten the knack of having my camera set and knowing when to click. Last night I didn't even try. I just let the energy of the storm soak in much as the heavy rain soaked the ground. This morning I am enjoying the smell of the ground after that kind of rain.

These photos are a few from that sunset before the storm.