The Storm: My experience as a photographer in a lightning storm.

As I stepped out onto the balcony of my grandfather?s tall, rustic cabin, the sniff out of wet dirt hit my nose. As I gazed peck the mountain and crossways the valley, I could see dark and sinister clouds were quickly rolling towards us, heavy with precipitate. The straight line winds produced gusts that were as all-powerful as a tornado. It was near 8 o?clock on that Montana summer evening, and even though night did not officially come until 11, night would mother early as the clouds overshadowed and blotched out the know of the insolate?s bright o straddle glow. A powerful lightning pull was approaching and it would show an impressive display of its might that I would not soon forget.

The thunder roared loudly, shaking boththing within range of the mountain. The give out echoed down the mountain and into the valley. My dog stood next to me whimpering hopelessly and pacing fend for and forth nervously at the sound of every clash of thunder. Inside, my family also seemed nervous because Bird?s Eye, a small mountain community, is one of the most lighten prone spots in the country. Despite this fact, I sky-high stood out there, leaning against the balcony rails with my digital television camera in hand, hoping to capture the mighty bolts of lightning that cracked the sky.

there were hundreds of strikes happening every second. With every strike came the risk of death and yet I continued to stand there waiting to take the stark(a) picture. Just as soon as the strikes came, they disappeared. The atmosphere was electrifying. There was so much static in the air that my hair began to stand and my camera began to malfunction. The smell of wet dirt and rain intensified as the powerful gusts of wind blew in my direction. The mountains across the valley became less visible as the torrential rains, looking like a wall of thick fog, approached faster. I was motionlessness not satisfied with any pictures that I had taken. I began to nervously fumble with my camera and accidentally took a picture.

Suddenly without ideal I felt a powerful jolt, and I was throw up against the sliding glass doors of the balcony. In a powerful display of its might, a bolt of lightning hit the ground about 100 yards to my right. Flames from its impact engulfed the surrounding pine trees.



Stunned at what had incisively happened, I quickly opened the door and stepped back inside of the cabin with my gaze fixed on the fire. afterwards realizing the timing of the picture I had taken, I looked at my camera to see it was no longer working. I removed the retentiveness card and rushed over to my laptop to check the last picture.

My camera had caught a split second picture of the lightning just as it touched the top of the trees. The bolt was wide, covering the pass of 3 trees. As I looked up from my screen, I could experience what sounded like applause. The rain was pouring down and dousing the wildfire by the cabin. My parents and grandparents gathered around the computer astounded at the throw I managed to capture. For a photographer, an experience like this would have been rewarding. exactly for me, it almost meant life or death. Later that night, as I looked out the doors one last time, the lightning had not disappeared but sort of remained behind the clouds, restrained in its movement.

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