Alright, here’s my second post this week (are you happy, Michael Schweiger?):
The evening of Thursday, June 1st, found me in Princeton with Joshua Spencer, a friend from college (he and his wife Bree were seniors at WWU when I started there). Complimenting the maximally profound Philosophy we were discussing, clouds gathered, lightning flashed, and rumbles of thunder permeated the air.
When the storm began to draw away from Princeton, Joshua and I gave chase. In my trusty Subaru we boldly pursued the night’s disruptor into territory hitherto unexplored by either of us: the Jersey shore.
By the time we got there, the flashes were occurring less frequently, and instead of hitting the ground they’d retreated into the sky, streaking from cloud to cloud, sometimes across large amounts of the horizon. Still, the storm wasn’t through with us: accompanying one cloud-to-cloud display the air was filled with static that we could feel on our faces. The prickling and windlike pressure made it seem as if something had kicked up sand in our direction, but we both knew the storm was the assailant, and sand wasn’t its weapon.
After giving each other props for coming into such contact with nature’s fury, Joshua and I decided that if wading was to occur, it’d better be before another such flash swept the sky. And really, rushing to put one’s feet in water is the only rational response to finding the air to be so filled with electricity that you can see, hear and feel it.
So, with dauntless courage like that which we’d summoned when trying Vegemite with Bree over a year before, we sauntered into the ocean. A couple seconds later, the novelty of wading in the Atlantic having evaporated, we were sauntering a bit more quickly back away from the ocean. Pausing on the beach, we realised that we were the tallest objects around. On Joshua’s suggestion we rushed to stand by a lifeguard tower, so any interested lightning would hit that rather than us.
Once there, I began to think of news stories I’d heard about people dying when lightning had struck trees they were sitting under. How close to the tall objects had they been? I shared my question with Joshua. Then we ran.
Safely back in the car, we reflected on our fantastic bravery. We then contentedly left the storm alone, happy to return to New Brunswick.
I am reminded of an episode of the Simpsons where Homer, relating a similar tale of being caught in a storm, says: "sheltering myself under a piece of sheet-metal, I ran for cover under the largest tree I could find". D'oh!
Posted by: Ross | June 12, 2006 at 05:29 AM
Yes, I'm happy now! I had almost given up hope. I'm also glad you didn't get killed by the lightning--who would organize all the great metaphysics events in the area if you were gone?
Posted by: Michael Schweiger | June 15, 2006 at 01:27 PM