I've always had a thing for lightning. It fascinates me and I must admit I do not have the proper amount of fear when it comes with playing in storms, although I have cooled my jets as I have gotten older.
As a child:
My first real memory of lightning happened when I was six or seven. We moved into our house in Firth, ID (where I spent my childhood) right before my sixth birthday. I am making the assumption that the incident I remember happened the first summer we were there (which pre-dates my ownership of horses, but not my obsession with them.) It was a pool party with several (5 or 6?) other girls my own age and a small plastic pool filled with water. A cloud came up and it started to rain. There was lightning and thunder. The tree across the road from our house was struck by lightning. (This actually happened a total of three times while we were living there.) I and my friends were scared and ran from the pool to the front porch.
The front porch of our house was brick and concrete, with wide concrete stairs coming up to the door. It was covered with a roof, but both sides were open to the world, framed by large archways made of brick. The front of the porch was designed the same way, with a larger, wider archway bracketing the stairs. Just outside the porch, on either side of the arch and even with the top stairs were wide, flat squares of the kind rich people put statuary on, but we left empty (not being rich). I and the other girls raced up the stairs, but unable to figure out how to open the door, we crowded into one of the corners of the porch, with our backs to the wall. I stood in front and threw my arms open, protecting the girls crowded behind me.
The storm was intense, with lightning and rain. It was dark and the air was heavy. A bolt of yellow lightning raced out of the sky, bent at an angle, slid beneath the roof and reached across the porch to touch me on the belly. I can clearly remember looking down and watching the yellow light touch my belly through my one piece swim suit. Then it was gone.
As a young adult:
I moved a lot in my late teens and early twenties, finally finding myself in Boulder, broke, working fast food and dealing with a lot of depression and despair. I had a group of friends that I hung out with and one thing they all really liked to do was either watch or play softball. I tagged along for the fun of it. There was a game that was called because of rain, which was accompanied by lightning. I got out of the car and went onto the ball field. The lightning was striking all around me, hitting the top of one of the poles of the softball field, accompanied by heavy, striking rain. I danced and yelled my defiance to the storm, daring it to smite me, to strike me, to either take me out of my misery or to transform me into something completely different. The lightning hit the ground a hundred yards away, but did not strike the notably insane person challenging heaven. I rode the euphoria and exaltation for almost an hour, retiring to my car exhausted and completely drenched. The only thing that could have made that experience better was to have been naked (I was much younger with a pretty nice body then.)
In my ongoing saga to find a farrier I like to replace Michelle (who is no longer traveling to do feet, citing heath conditions and not enough time) I went to the barn about 12 pm yesterday to meet with a farrier Michelle (trainer) has been using for 8 years. Ashke seemed to like him and Greg proceeded to inspect his feet. Ashke was standing in the middle of the aisle with Greg holding his left front hoof between his legs. I had Ashke on a loose rein and was just kind of watching.
The barn suddenly filled with a bright white light. Everything seemed haloed in the light and I could feel all of the hair raise on my body. The air felt heavy and charged at the same time. Very similar to the feeling of expectancy right before an orgasm.
Then it felt like a bomb went off. The white halo of light ripped away from everything, leaving the world much darker. And the cracking boom of thunder shattered the air. Everyone jumped for cover. The smell of burnt ozone lingered. All of the other horses were freaking out.
Except Ashke. He flinched and startled, but otherwise, just threw his head up and stared. He was rigid with tension, but he did not move his feet. Such a good boy.
The barn had been hit by lightning. It blew apart a couple of lights.
It did not make me want to go out and play in it, however.