So we went for another walk today.
The first storm of the summer season. Refreshing, til you get hit by lightning coming home from the shops.
It was mid-afternoon and the BOM had predicted rain and possible storms. I checked the radar, and saw a big patch of yellow, red and black (the colours representing the strongest weather) coming from the west.
"Hey Honey, let's go for a walk," said I gleefully. Knew we could beat the weather.
Bad bad bad bad bad bad idea.
You know it's a bad idea when you're praying your wife and you won't get sizzled by lightning while desperately recalling Job 38:35.
It all seemed innocuous enough. We headed down the bikeway near our house (see pics here), at a brisk pace with white cloud above and greying cloud to the south-west. No biggie.
The darker, lower clouds pixelated like some mid-nineties computer game against our flyscreen security window.
Up we headed into Broadwater Park, where I told Mrs Speech that I would like to continue down the bikeway. That is, further away from our house. She balked. I talked. We walked (back toward our house).
We hit Broadwater Road and she suggested we watch the cars for any wetness as a sign of rain nearby. Clever girl. I wouldn't have thought of that one. The clouds began to close in.
Ham Road is a horrible horrible hill, because it inevitably comes at the end of a walk, when you're already tired, and forces you to climb an incline for about 150 metres.
It's even worse when you can see the gathering storm clouds and your already-hurting legs unconsciously move much much faster as you wide-eyed-with-anxiety ponder what would happen if ten billion volts of electricity passed through you? Would it be like in that John Travolta movie? Would my IQ increase 100 points and suddenly I've figured out how my Wii can power my entire house while running on a glass of orange juice?
These are things you think about as the lightning escapes the clouds and discharges its fury. And then again, and again.
And still even as I was kicking myself for my stupidity, I wasn't done.
We had brought some cash with us because we needed a couple things from the shops. Nothing terribly important. But as we turned left on to Mount Gravatt-Capalaba Road and put the storm to our backs, my confidence increased. I was now looking at white cloud instead of dark grey. I didn't know how fast storms moved.
Yeah, I know this picture doesn't make it seem that bad. The video gives a better impression. The not-heavy rain belied the noise and confusion of the whole thing.
Five minutes later we exited the shops with the storm directly over us.
We crossed the road and speed-walked down the hill to our unit complex. Mrs Speech ran to our unit, the pattering rain harbouring horrible horrible thoughts that had left John Travolta and turned to what I would smell like as a piece of crispy bacon. I ran a little too.
We made it though. We thanked the Lord a lot.
And inside we cooled down, and the first storm of storm season 2012 passed in about twenty minutes.
There'll be more.
But I won't be walking in them, 'guarantee you that.