Thunderstorm
Saturday, July 26th, 2008
I saw the lightning flash in the clouds above the dashboard, about 20 miles south on a highway that crosses the Kansas River and rolls past farm fields kept verdant by elebaroate watering systems. We we were cutting a swath between storm fronts. The streets were thick with water but only sprinkles were falling now, and the closer we got to home, the more evident it became that we would miss the most severe weather.
I was afraid for a moment that with the storm dead ahead, we would have to drive straight through high-powered winds and blinding rains. With the fear disappating – when something as potentially threatening as driving through strong Midwest thunderstorms that can transform roads into slippery and unpredictable ice rinks turns out not to be a threat after all – the flashes up ahead became harmless entertainment for us.
Between windshield wiper sweeps, I could see several black clouds with jagged edges floated independently against a white wall, what looked like a silver movie screen background, with strikes behind both.
“Hey, look over there,” I said over my shoulder, rolling down the window and pointing out so the children could see what I did. “Look at the lightning.” Their heads turned as they tried to see around the seat backs and my extended arm, but the changing scenery on the interstate had brought along a hillside and treeline to replace the clear view I had, and they looked as me with confused faces, as if I’d finally lost my mind.
I’d seen almost the exact same scene on a return plane flight from Las Vegas in June. We were passing a thunderstorm to the south. Lightning strikes were filling the sky and though I’d seen thunderstorms play out wildly from under tree limbs or safely behind paned glass, it was different being in them – even with the elements – up where you could see the red-flashing lights of other planes slip underneath the rough weather.
The experience is quite different behind the wheel. Driving on wet roads is a science in which gradual rates of speed are preferred. Touching the brake or the gas in a big puddle can cause the vehicle to slide. But on the ground, you can see how the big, heavy raindrops can impact the dry surface, how the Earth is just a big receiver of whatever the sky has for it. And, that’s when it occured to me that, as long as there was enough water, there would always be a possibility of Eden.
