My semi-charred remains with stumps for fingers..

The weather here took a turn for the worst late last night, a brilliant and massive storm centre compelled me to sit on the balcony. It sucked me in to its charm to become totally absorbed as the whole valley was lit-up by intense lightning of different types, everywhere, even way into the distant mountains 60 km distant. It is sooooo dark in the countryside at night, with no city-light pollution, and I sat there in complete darkness with my journal on my lap, and wrote what I saw, heard, smelt, felt and experienced. It was the most amazing ten minutes.

My only source of light was the lightning itself. It flashed its power onto my page and gave me some hope of making a readable entry. But those flashes were so glary I couldn't see so well due to momentary flash-blindness. In the end it worked out nicely, with a great deal of texture and tone not normally evidenced in formal journalling. It was such a buzz! Exhilliaratingly fantastic.

It was a risky thing to do, I suppose, for I did think it possible the house might get hit by a bolt from the heavens. The house is isolated and situated so high up on the hill. It also has a metal roof, steel posts and verandah railing (which I had my feet rested upon!). 'Spose I could have got fried but I didn't. My semi-charred remains with charcoal finger marks on my journal would have made an interesting photo-study for CSI, and the journal entry, most probably my last, being primary evidence. Must do that again, sometime.