26 July 2006

Lightning at sea

I'm sitting here tonight, as this little end of the country cools down, and I'm watching the enormous, vital streaks of summer lightning setting the night sky ablaze.

Its a huge storm, about 12 miles out to sea and each explosion of power is dancing across the heavens, painting a giant, beautiful lattice of blue-white light that sears the rest of the night sky into a brief scream of violet, before earthing from multiple points.

They are coming at a rate of roughly one every twenty seconds, these forks and streaks and prongs and sheets, this lace work and metal work, this joy.

So I'm sitting watching that and thinking I must blog about it, and it brings to mind all the other things that have happened in the past two months, all those never-to-be-repeated thoughts, moments, sights, ideals, decisions, wrongs, slips, affections.

Its not that they werent moving, I mean if I was a car you could say they definitely turned my ignition. I am not become zombie.

I just have to work out now (still playing car) if its my sparks, tappits or the battery that needs sorting out, because hey I feel that urge to share with you all - to write, to create, or to answer and support (because I still read yout posts on your own blogs), its just that before I can get to the keyboard the impetus is gone, petered out.

My best intentions are so, so leaky; all the oomph trickles out before they generate action. the ideas are sound, its the excecution that fails me.

I feel so stupid.

People I used to love to talk to now do my head in, because they are at 'my speed' and I am not, they bounce and sparkle and I can't keep up. They might as well be Gerald McBoing Boing and I might as well have a bad hangover.

But they're not hyper at all. They're the ones at normal speed.

So me and my psyche, we're just going to toddle back indoors, find our mental slippers, maybe play a few games of solitaire (or maybe not as that sounds too much like thinking), do our best impression of grumpy old men recuperating as slowly as possible and,... and well we'll come back out when we damn well fancy the idea, or theres something nice for tea, bacause thats the way it goes with old grumps, you just never can tell.

Off to bed now to lie in the dark and really experience this storm. I just hope it brings rain because dry lightning is scary and way less predictable.


Stegbeetle said...

Your storm sounds brilliant! We've had a few rumbles of thunder and the odd flash of lightning but nothing serious. Any rain we've had as almost evaporated as soon as its hit.

I'm sure you'll soon have your bounce and sparkle building up again.

It's good to hear from you anyway.

beckyboop said...

You didn't peter out today. It sounds as if the lightning recharged you a bit. I felt like I was there watching the storm with you. Come back out when you damn well fancy to. We'll be here.

Becky :)

Anonymous said...

I can sympathise, having gone from an IQ of 149 to not knowing what day of the week it is. Give yourself time. Hope you feel better soon.

Carol said...

Hiya, sweetie :)

Do you know that your profile pic makes you look like Deanna Troy from Star Trek?

We've been having megal ightning for two days now. Exciting!

zilla said...

Thank you.

I know it wasn't for me personally, but I feel indulged. I feel as if I received a wonderful gift from you by way of this wonderful post.

Big fat Zilla smoochies -- whether you like 'em or not!

Le laquet said...

I was awake at 3.30 am watching a storm bounce over Gravesend / Dartford. Unfortunately it never came any closer. HUmid as all hell here now.

fineartist said...

Oh sweetie I don't know what to say, but you know me, I'll babble around until I find something in here lose and rattling out.

I understand, not totally of course because I haven't been sick lately, but I feel ya. It has become increasingly difficult for me to blog too. I still read the posts, and sometimes I am able to comment, sometimes not. Me, I feel like my Witt's have left me, been sucked right out of my head and I have no reason for it. Just witless I guess.

Anyway, you take care of you, xx, Lori

Astryngia said...

You are still on literary form even if you are not currently slicing through butter like a hot knife. Enjoy the slower pace - it probably won't last long - enjoy the time in which to stop and smell the roses, watch the storm, repair the pain. You may even find that you quite enjoy taking it easy - you're entitled! :-))