We are in the midst of another storm. Or we were last night when I wrote this. The kind of sound and light show for which tourists from Des Moines pay big bucks to experience at the Acropolis.
Ours is free. Enough thunder and lightning to keep ten seasons of Bayreuth in horned helmets.
Tropical Storm Erick is pushing its way up the Mexican Pacific coast. But this storm is coming at us from the opposite direction -- the north. Whatever its provenance, it brought us a bit of rain – along with the flashes and echoing booms that fill our little bowl of land between the ocean and the mountains.
The rain does not bother me. We are ready for it it. Want it.
It is the lightning that changes our routine. At first flash, I relearn the steps to the light fantastic.
I am surprised how many electrical items I have plugged in. I know that because almost all of them need to be unplugged -- or potentially face a Rosenberg fate.
Two computers. A printer. Speakers. A monitor. A battery backup. Three battery rechargers. The microwave. My Kindle recharger. A cordless telephone and two satellite units. The wireless backup drive.
And, of course, the modem. For some reason, modems seem to be the most sensitive to power surges and brownouts. I have had to take three to the TelMex morgue in the last four years.
Having reduced myself to the lifestyle that would meet the Amish Seal of Approval, I went upstairs to enjoy the show. When the upper unit is rented, the roof is the renters’ domain. When the unit is empty, it is mine.
The thunderstorms in San Miguel de Allende are impressive. I would stay there for that reason alone. But nothing beats watching lightning strike the ocean. It is almost as if we get a peek at the act of creation.
This must be my dividend for braving the heat and humidity of Melaque’s summer.