We are in the midst of our summer monsoons. While the rain is needed and brings some cooler temperatures, the lightning is the star of the show.
I remember being a small child and standing with my older brother at the door, learning to count the distance of the strikes. They would bounce off the mountains and looked so scary then.
Then I remember learning that my grandmother would sit on the stairs to the basement in the Hudson Valley because she was terrified of lightning. Apparently, it had knocked a piece of silverware out of her hand through a window at one point. It seemed so strange that she worried it would ever happen again because the chances seemed so remote.
The lightning in Tucson is brilliant. It lights up the sky and at night you can see the outline of the mountains clearly with each strike. It’s beautiful. And terrifying.
Remember that story about my grandmother? The chances aren’t nearly as remote as I thought. Our current house has been hit three times while we lived here. The first was the cable box in the front yard. The second and third weren’t probably direct hits to the house because there was no fire, but they both were so loud that I thought the house was going to collapse.
The alarm system was destroyed both times. Also televisions, dryers, garage door mechanics, and a myriad of other appliances. The worst thing is that we have absolutely no idea why it keeps happening. We aren’t on a hill, there are trees nearby that are taller than the ones in our yard and there’s nothing that should be drawing it in. Whatever it is, I’d rather not be the exception that proves the rule.
Lightning definitely does strike twice.
Maybe you live there on a water vein