The other night after coming home from a weekly tradition here in the summer of having some wine and listening to crappy American cover bands with friends in the shadows of a medieval castle tower called
Torre d'Oriolo, I was granted a special treat of watching and photographing a thunder and lightning storm that was so brilliant and amazing that, had I been a primitive man hammering bones in a cave somewhere near
Lake Turkana, I would have started thinking the thoughts that, upon anthropologists unearthing my bones and idols thousands of year later would be defined as the religion of my people. Seriously, the flashes of light were so intense and the sounds so crackingly loud at one point, as I struggled to focus my eyes again, I thought maybe the world had blown up and I was merely floating in a misty afterlife, hairs all over standing on end, shivers through my spine, and a terror in my smile and howl. It was a powerful night to say the least, and allowed me to start thinking some bigger thought again. Life isn't always staring down the barrels of a shifter cable you know...
This last photo is actually standing in the yard, close to the van in the left corner, and the rows of grape vines that head out across the yard, which you can barely see due to the flashing pulse simultaneously erupting with three short cracks of the most terrifying loudness...unreal!
S.
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