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The gates swung open and a Fig Newton entered
As we walked away from Prospect Hill Park and the mysteriously foreshortened fireworks display on the Esplanade, it became apparent that the ghostly flashes we had seen reflecting off the cloud cover through the surrounding trees were not neighborhood fireworks or flash photography, but lightning. Not so much thunder, curiously, but there was enough obvious storm impending that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks offered me and derspatchel and jinian rides to our respective homes.
Within a few blocks, the sky looked like someone had set an irregular rapid strobe behind the clouds. Lit-up, livid, a kind of lowering ink-pearl. People were moving faster, hoping to get inside before the rain loosed. There was thunder now, rattling constantly across the street. There were green flashes. We were seeing cloud-to-cloud strikes. Things were starting to look apocalyptic. Truly, I cannot remember when I was last out walking under that much lightning, especially that kept changing color. I distinctly recall saying togaudior that "the last time I saw something like this, it was followed by a kaiju breach."
About forty-five seconds later we heard a characteristic sputtering noise as we passed a house with a garden in the side yard. "Oh, sprinkler," Rob said, I said, "are you ever about to become unnecessary."
And then the people half a block in front of us started screaming and running. That pelting wet sound was not the sprinkler after all. In a minute, we were screaming and running, too.
I mean, it was a tropical storm, not a poison-skinned monster the size of a skyscraper from beneath the sea. I was laughing out loud and running, soaked to the skin in seconds and trying to wrap my jacket around my cellphone and keep hold of a suddenly irrelevant bottle of seltzer. Somerville was not laid waste; Rob and I sheltered on the porch until Rush, Jinian, and Gaudior arrived and got us towels from inside; we got a ride home and the cats were a little freaked out, but the lights were on and our computers were all right and a tree hadn't blown into the Mystery Shack or anything. Our clothes are drying over the shower rail and the gate at the top of the stairs. I just ate a coconut ice cream sandwich because going out to J.P. Licks now is a patently silly idea. My hair is thinking about starting to dry.
But man, was that cinematic.
rushthatspeaks offered me and derspatchel and jinian rides to our respective homes.Within a few blocks, the sky looked like someone had set an irregular rapid strobe behind the clouds. Lit-up, livid, a kind of lowering ink-pearl. People were moving faster, hoping to get inside before the rain loosed. There was thunder now, rattling constantly across the street. There were green flashes. We were seeing cloud-to-cloud strikes. Things were starting to look apocalyptic. Truly, I cannot remember when I was last out walking under that much lightning, especially that kept changing color. I distinctly recall saying to
gaudior that "the last time I saw something like this, it was followed by a kaiju breach."About forty-five seconds later we heard a characteristic sputtering noise as we passed a house with a garden in the side yard. "Oh, sprinkler," Rob said, I said, "are you ever about to become unnecessary."
And then the people half a block in front of us started screaming and running. That pelting wet sound was not the sprinkler after all. In a minute, we were screaming and running, too.
I mean, it was a tropical storm, not a poison-skinned monster the size of a skyscraper from beneath the sea. I was laughing out loud and running, soaked to the skin in seconds and trying to wrap my jacket around my cellphone and keep hold of a suddenly irrelevant bottle of seltzer. Somerville was not laid waste; Rob and I sheltered on the porch until Rush, Jinian, and Gaudior arrived and got us towels from inside; we got a ride home and the cats were a little freaked out, but the lights were on and our computers were all right and a tree hadn't blown into the Mystery Shack or anything. Our clothes are drying over the shower rail and the gate at the top of the stairs. I just ate a coconut ice cream sandwich because going out to J.P. Licks now is a patently silly idea. My hair is thinking about starting to dry.
But man, was that cinematic.
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We saw something similar in Hartford, right before Fairfield avenue disappeared for half an hour. It came back, though.
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We couldn't see twenty feet in front of us in the rain: we could see street lights and house lights shining through the whiteout, but I couldn't tell which street we were on. We lost sight of the people behind us. It was incredible.
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Nine
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Naturally, it had stopped raining by the time we got home. Do you have any idea if this is supposed to repeat tomorrow, or if that blowout was it?
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Nine
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Huh. I had no idea. I thought that was the outer fringes of Arthur.
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Nine
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I'm so sorry! Being deprived of storms is almost as serious as being deprived of the sea. Maybe you can visit somewhere the clouds really roll in.
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I don't actually think that's a terrible idea. It's almost certainly cheaper than moving.
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There's a hippie store in Austin, TX that has a six-foot gong next to one of the windows. When we were in town for an NJCL competition, my sister and I went to the store during our free time, and one of the employees there had us stand behind the gong while he . . . made a rainstorm happen. I don't even know what he was doing to get all of those sounds. I only know that there was rain and thunder while I stood there with my eyes closed, and it was one of the most beautifully meditative experiences of my life. And then we walked out of the store and into the final round of Certamen, and we were the first team from our region to ever win at the state level. I don't think the two things are unconnected.
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This, oh this. Silicon Valley has a very ... flat affect. No hills, no storms, no ocean. It's all static electricity around here.
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Come visit Boston! It has variable, sometimes terrible weather! It'll be good for you!
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It was really like someone had turned on a tap. Rob said it was like standing under a rain effect. We didn't have time to do anything but run.
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Prrt. Please post me this storm for aesthetic reasons as much as air-cleansing.
* "the last time I saw something like this, it was followed by a kaiju breach."*
Hee! How can we be sure you're not a very lyrical kaiju?
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If it writes itself into anything, I shall drop you a line posthaste.
How can we be sure you're not a very lyrical kaiju?
. . . Trust?
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It was excellent. And inspired me to rewatch Pacific Rim.
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...I should put on the Pacific Rim soundtrack and clean the house.
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It is excellent combative music. Godspeed.
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Coulda done with another one later in the evening, though.
Moment of self-promotion: I wrote a thunderstorm audio iPhone app, http://zarfhome.com/pocketstorm/ .
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Yeah, I was expecting kind of a repeat today. Instead it just steadily rained.
Moment of self-promotion: I wrote a thunderstorm audio iPhone app
Go tell
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We had the power out from last night until eight this morning, but all in all things were fine and kaiju free.
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Glad to hear it!