Being caught in a storm; from my personal experience and archives. | PNW.
The sky vandalized our trees. Its electric tongue lashed out and wrote its name in tall ponderosas.
A lightning grenade shook the house, and the power cut out. Framed photos hit the edge of their nails, slanted, and crashed to the ground. The dogs whimpered and shook, clinging to my legs.
I watched lightning strike another tree, splitting it in half and leaving it fallen and helpless in the stand, as if its branches were arms to catch it. Lightning shredded the bark into shards with a swift thwack all over the ground.
Left, middle, and right: All ponderosa pines with lightning groves from the storm.
This was an instance when a tree acted upon me, rather than me observing as if it were an inert object. I witnessed and participated in the storm’s surge through the house, which destroyed almost every appliance and made it unlivable for about seven months.
Experiences like lightning taking out my home reminded me I am a guest here, tasked with listening and respecting the forest and nature’s rhythms. I think of tree trunks as collectors of stories—what’s been there, who was it, when was it, and why. For example, trees’ stories may show blister rust, bark beetle, cancerous growth, or open sores, all health stats for an ecosystem.
Just as the thunderstorm left its mark on the trees, people too leave their signatures on the landscape. I have come across humans who carved their initials or messages into trees. Perhaps they’re wishing for impermanence, an elusive concept unless you’re a rock that can withstand time, pressure, and weather for millions of years. And even then, there’s an end point ahead.
Sketch from my field notesbook while backcountry camping, with watercolor set and another watercolor journal. Someone had carved the initials J&B into a Quaking Aspen’s fissure. Uintas Moutains, Utah. 2026
People may be less likely to harm what they feel belongs to them. If we saw the planet as our own to steward, respect would follow. If you can name your environment, you’re more likely to support its needs. Creating a care plan for your space—your habitat—is one more remedy on this great planet we share.
Returning to that exploded tree, I thought about how lightning can linger in a tree unseen in its wood, creating a holdover period. When lightning hits a tree, the heat lasts milliseconds. However, a holdover period may lead to a continuing current into the heartwood or duff, smoldering for days and, if conditions are right, starting the tree on fire. And one tree fire often becomes many trees on fire when the canopy overlaps.
After the storm ended, I walked to my neighbors and told them about the struck tree. We agreed to keep an eye on it.
The next day, a chainsaw pulsed and whined, a usual familiar distant sound, ricocheting off hills, obsidian, brittlebush, junipers, and pines. But this time, it was close. They cut down the remains of that zapped tree out of caution. I watch and live, hoping for communal homeostasis in an ever-changing world.
Sources of interest:
A Match to the Heart: One Woman’s Story of Being Struck by Lightning. Gretel Ehrlich. 1994. Pantheon.
Moris, J. V., Álvarez-Álvarez, P., Conedera, M., Dorph, A., Hessilt, T. D., Hunt, H. G. P., Libonati, R., Menezes, L. S., Müller, M. M., Pérez-Invernón, F. J., Pezzatti, G. B., Pineda, N., Scholten, R. C., Veraverbeke, S., Wotton, B. M., and Ascoli, D.: A global database on holdover time of lightning-ignited wildfires, Earth Syst. Sci. Data, 15, 1151–1163, https://doi.org/10.5194/essd-15-1151-2023, 2023.
Taylor, A. R. 1969. “Lightning Effects on the Forest Complex.” Proceedings: 9th Tall Timbers Fire Ecology Conference 1969.
Pérez-Invernón, F. J., Moris, J. V., Gordillo-Vázquez, F. J., Füllekrug, M., Pezzatti, G. B., Conedera, M., Lapierre, J., & Huntrieser, H. (2023). On the Role of Continuing Currents in Lightning-Induced Fire Ignition. Journal of Geophysical Research: Atmospheres, 128(21), e2023JD038891. https://doi.org/10.1029/2023JD038891