This Labor Day weekend was a rather eventful weekend for us at the farm. Lot of work on the shooting range, shed work, bees and trails. We took a break during a storm. Lightening was fierce. We live at the top of the Ohio River Valley, 800 feet above the river and plains to our north. Storms come up the valley from the west make many July 4th fireworks look tame.
Usually I sit on the west facing deck to watch the incoming storm. Just kind of into that thing, better than TV. Had to move to the porch on the east side of the house because the rain was blowing in.
We were drinking an ice tea on the porch and heard a crack to the south when instantly to the north on the shooting range a tree was lit up by lightening. The tree was dead, the hit limbs looked like the tip of a wooden match just as you lite it. White hot, sizzling, bright.
I had always wanted to be near a lightening strike.
After that one, I went inside for a bit.
Six years ago I bought that property to enjoy the outdoors, hunt, farm, debauch, a second home.
What a great moment.
Yeah, lightening can kill.