Showing posts with label lightning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lightning. Show all posts

Friday, March 29, 2013

The Turquoise Bead


Friday March 29 2013

It's rather ironic that a person who's deathly afraid of lightning can't hear thunder. When I can hear thunder, it's already too late and I am much too close to the lightning. (And I can't always depend on my riding partners… they know I'm afraid of lightning, so they don't always mention it when they hear thunder, thinking they might be doing me a favor.)

With the absence of one sense, however, I have learned to use my senses of sight and intuition to recognize thunderstorms by interpreting the aspirations of clouds: by the color, the size, the shape, the intent.

Even the slightest inkling of a section of a poofy cloud of a possible thunderstorm, and my neck hairs are alert and ready to stand on end, and the cloud is guilty before proven innocent. I can now sniff out and spot a thunderstorm and its direction of travel two states away.

Knowing I like to read, and knowing I'm afraid of lightning, my aunt Carolyn sent me a lovely book, The Anthropology of Turquoise, and pointed out a part mentioning that traditionally the Navajo wore a turquoise bead in their hair to protect them from lightning.

Well.

Seeing that I have been caught out totally exposed in half a dozen terrifying (to me) lightning storms, and seeing that I still can't seem to avoid encountering lightning storms here in Owyhee on horseback, I contacted my friend PJ, who just happened to have some real turquoise beads, and she sent a handful to me and Jose.



I tied a tiny turquoise bead onto Jose's bridle, so that we never go on a ride without it.

But after riding Mac yesterday with 2 very suspicious-looking dark rain clouds near the end of our ride (but no turquoise bead on Mac's bridle), and after riding Jose today into another almost-suspicious rain shower cloud (with a forecast of 20% chance of scattered thundershowers), I got to thinking.


I wondered if a bead tied to the bridle would even work, or does it have to be tied to hair? If it does work tied to Jose's bridle, will the turquoise bead protect us both? Does the bead have to be in my hair? Does Jose have to wear one in his hair too? Or does it even work for white people anyway? (Or at least white people interested in and respectful of the Navajo culture?)

Further investigation says a turquoise bead was fastened to a lock of hair to safeguard against snakebite (which would also be handy here… I was almost bitten by a baby rattlesnake in Brown's Creek Canyon last fall, and I encountered a record 10 or so rattlesnakes last year).

It's already that time of the year with the unpredictable spring weather - wind, rain showers, heat, freezing temperatures, spitting snow, and thunderstorms.

I think to be on the safe side, I'll just dig out those other turquoise beads and add two more to my daily riding gear - one for my hair, one for Jose's hair. Between those 2 turquoise beads and the one permanently attached to his bridle, we might stay safe. Can't hurt, and it might help!

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Just Say No to Summer


Saturday August 11 2012

Summer: For some, fun in the sun, barefoot in dirt, splashing in water, bright rays shooting down, tanning bodies, lightening hair.

I'm wired backwards. I can't stand being hot. I hate that sun beating down on me.

My only relief comes with the very rare - especially in this desert, particularly with this drought - cloudy day. I love the leaden clouds blotting out the sky. Spitting rain sends me into a tizzy, my head turned up to the heavens. Even without the rain, my spirits perk up because the clouds bring a break in the heat that I so desperately detest.

But this summer, I pay the price with the clouds. The clouds bring thunderstorms. The thunderstorms bring lightning. Lightning brings fire.

I got my clouds yesterday, but the thunderstorms came too. When the thunderheads moved on, a different cloud remained, leaving the sky dark and turning the sun blood red: smoke. 

A friend in Murphy emailed "Where is the fire? The channel 7 news at 5 said 300 acres south of Oreana, but the smoke makes me think it is bigger than that.  Lots of planes heading down that way.  Are you guys ok?  Can you see the fire?"

11 miles from here as the Raven flies, lightning struck the top of Toy Mountain in the Owyhees. Thank goodness the fire guys were on it quickly. Thank goodness there was no wind yesterday. Planes flew overhead all afternoon, back and forth between Boise and the mountain.

We saw the mountain still smoking while out riding this morning: the 'Pony Fire'. 500 acres, but it's 80% contained. Fire on the mountain and a forecast of smoke tomorrow. The skies remain hazy, smoky; the sunset colorful. But the cooling clouds are gone. It's hot again. 

I don't dare hope for any more clouds to cool me off. I just dream of winter, and wait.