Thunderstorms

I enjoy a good thunderstorm. When I was a kid, I would sit on Dad’s lap on the large wrap-around front porch of our home in southeastern Ontario. We would listen to the thunder and smell the rain as it pounded down around us.

Storm over the Trans-Kalahari Highway

Thunderstorm over the Trans-Kalahari Highway, 2012

Ten years on Vancouver Island meant ten years with thunderstorms being few and far between. A thunderstorm is an event there: one crack of thunder or one lightning flash sees all taking to twitter: “was that thunder?” or “did anyone else see that lightning in downtown #yyj?” It just doesn’t happen very often at all. For a city surrounded by water, thats not a bad thing. I would not want to be on a sailboat with a tall mast in the middle of a thunder storm.

One memorable night in the Solomon Islands, the Pacific Grace was surrounded by lightning. We had to turn off all of our electronic equipment to ensure it wasn’t destroyed if we were struck. (See Offshore Documentary, part 2, starting about the 2:30 minute mark for the footage.) It was a little unsettling to be in the midst of it, but also an amazing reminder of the power of nature.

Driving into a storm, southwestern Ontario, 2014

Driving into a storm, southwestern Ontario, 2014

We’ve had a lot of storms in southwestern Ontario over the last week. Sunday, after church (and after the Dutch beat the Mexicans in World Cup action), Matthew and I drove up to Lake Huron. We were hoping for some beach time and, since we’re about equal distance between Lake Erie and Lake Huron, we can pick and choose where we want to explore each time! This time it was Huron’s turn. It was a beautiful blue day when we set out. Soon, we noticed an ominous cloud towards the Lake. Then, the wind began to pick up. Next, I saw several bolts of lightning streaking down towards the ground (Matthew was being a safe driver and watching the road so he missed them). Pretty soon we were in the middle of the storm. The rain was coming down so hard that we nearly pulled over to wait for better visibility.

Lake Huron, 2014

Lake Huron, 2014

Then, just like that, the rain stopped, the sky cleared, and we were at the beach to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

Yesterday was another one of those days. I was nearly caught in three torrential downpours whilst cycling around town. After missing the first, a London Hydro employee encouraged me to buy a lottery ticket…I guess that first deluge was a big one! It intrigues me how localized the weather systems are in London. While I could see that there was a magnificently dark cloud over part of the city yesterday, I couldn’t tell that it was raining elsewhere. While I smelt the rain when I got to a different part of the city, and witnessed the second downpour from the safety of my favourite coffee shop in town, I have no idea if it rained a third time in a different part of the city. One neighbourhood: bone dry. Six blocks away: rivers in the street from the rainfall.

One thing is for certain: thunderstorms are fun to listen to, but I’m glad I haven’t been caught outside in one yet!

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Summer

The thing about writing is that, if you don’t do it, you can’t do it.

It seems strange to think about losing the practice of writing. After all, over the course of a year in school, tens of thousands of words and hundreds of pages of writing are produced.

But it is different.

The writing was accomplished as spring was bypassed in the abrupt shift from winter to summer. The term ended and a sigh was released as the flowers gradually began to show their faces above the dirt.

Summer.

Summer is fully upon us: Yesterday was 35 degrees and today will likely be much like it.

Summer is long days and the possibility for adventure. Interspersed between sporadic shifts at work – the life of relief staff – have been trips here and there. First to Toronto to spend some time with an aunt and being treated to an afternoon on the water.

IMG_1145Lake Ontario. It isn’t an ocean but it seems as vast from the shoreline. However it lacks the smell of the Pacific, that smell of salt and seaweed and sea creatures stuck on ancient rocks as they are bashed by waves. It is also conspicuously lacking tides, something strangely disconcerting to one used to charting their shifting movements. There was something distinctly tropical about its look at the end of May.

IMG_1165Then it was off to Sarnia and visiting aunts, uncle, and cousin. Theatre, rummage sales, and art shows. Boardgames and barbecue.

Meanwhile in London it is dinner, pastries, coffee, beer, spontaneous conversations, and so much more with godparents and family.

One of the joys of remaining in Ontario throughout the summer is the proximity of people I haven’t spent enough time with over the years. When filling out my tax return this year, I had to detail the distance between old address and new school versus new address and new school. I discovered that I have moved over 4200km – that is if I were taking the shortest route through the northern United States – and it would take me about 41 hours to drive.

So I’ll look forward to the visits when they come and enjoy the novelty that is summer in southwestern Ontario.

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