Lightning

This summer weekend brought hordes of boaters, jet skiers, swimmers, wakeboarders, and fishermen to the lake.  Late yesterday afternoon, a bruised and angry storm rolled over the mountains and spread quickly across the water.

The lake quickly cleared of activity.

Then, just as strong winds whipped the lake into froth and lighting cracked repeatedly through blackening sky, a lone pontoon boat sped along down the center of the lake.

I watched in amazement, imagining a huge bullseye for lightning painted on the boat's Bimini canopy.

I watched the boat extend itself down the entire length of the causeway arm and slice out of sight around a rocky bend.   

Years ago, my neighbor, Leo, sat along the shore of this very lake watching a duck jostling around on whitecap waves at the center of the lake during a similar storm.  That’s a pretty stupid duck, he thought to himself.  That duck needs to swim to shore.

Only a few seconds later, as he watched the duck, a brilliantly white stroke of lighting speared the lake exactly where the duck crested a whitecap.

The duck disappeared into a spray of feathers.

—Mitchell Hegman