Nature is Cool: Winnipeg Lightning Storms

Written by 

I've travelled extensively throughout Canada (this last two weeks I've spent in Winnipeg marks an accumulated six months I've been in this city alone, stretching back to the mid-90s), but very little worldwide. So please forgive my limited perspective in the claims I'm about to make. Or rather, add a comment and help me fill out this topic further. But here it is: there are simply no lightning storms like those which crackle, explode, dance, shatter, glide and leave the spectator awestruck in Winnipeg, Manitoba. winnipeg lightning storm

The prairies are famous as Big Sky Country. Having grown up in the mountains and hills of BC, it was stunning to me on my first visit to Manitoba to not see the slightest slope to the land, in any direction. Consequently, the sky descends on you like God's palm. 

I haven't looked into the science of why this is so, but when thunder and lightning come to this part of the world, it isn't a passing fling. It's a massive, pneumatic orgy in the sky. The titans have hard-ons that make the Eiffel Tower look like a toothpick, and they ain't holding back. There's no virtue in restraint, say the electric prairie clouds. Let's do this, let's do it for real, and let's do it alllll night.

winnipeg lightning storm

One evening I found myself on the sidewalk, simply beholding the show. Lightning jumped from one cloud to another. And another, and another, and another. You couldn't always see where the lightning leapt from, or leapt to - those points were shrouded by more clouds, which diffused the light enough to make it foggier but no less beautiful or mighty.

winnipeg lightning storm

I watched the display, which far outstripped anything humans could put on with a measly load from a fireworks barge. I imagined seeing exactly what was before me in a movie, directed by Steven Spielberg, or George Lucas in his obsessed-with-augmenting-everything-with-CGI-at-every-possible-opportunity phase, and saying "come on, give it a rest, that's just not believable." And yet there it was. And it went on. And on. And on.

May it never stop.

Related items

Join the Discussion

Commenting Policy

Beams and Struts employs commenting guidelines that we expect all readers to bear in mind when commenting at the site. Please take a moment to read them before posting - Beams and Struts Commenting Policy

7 comments

  • Comment Link Corin Raymond Tuesday, 31 July 2012 19:13 posted by Corin Raymond

    Leaving tress in the road and the power down
    Leaving wind-torn branches strewn all around
    Like a carnival ground in the town they leave behind
    Every storm is a vagabond
    You see them on the horizon, they're here, and they're gone
    That's how the weather put ramblin' on my mind

    Prairie storms are crazy because you can see 'em pass by even if they don't head your way. Sometimes you wish they would hit you but they don't, they just light up the horizon and head off someplace else. Or they hit you so fast you don't see 'em comin' at all. There are a lot of trees down in the neighbourhood I'm staying in from the storm on Sunday afternoon. I was in the Asper Centre, watching Martin Dockery's show when that happened. The more he talked about not believing in God, the louder the thunder became. Eventually he had to address his show to God himself- I mean the building was starting to shake. It was a beautiful Fringe moment. When we were let out the town was drip-drying, but there was nothing else to say that HE had stomped the earth.

    I loved Martin's show but I wish I'd seen the other show too. That's the Fringe all over again- there's always another show happening at the same time that you wish you could see.

    Corin

  • Comment Link Chris Dierkes Tuesday, 31 July 2012 19:49 posted by Chris Dierkes

    I loved this piece as a someone who grew up in Ohio and now lives in lightning-less Vancouver. I miss those moments of being outside on a summers day and then feeling the hair on my arms stand straight up from the electricity in the air. You could feel it on the back of your neck to. And you knew, this is gonna be a big one.

    Or I'd be sleeping and the lightning would be so bright (like the ones above) that would it penetrate one's closed eyes during sleep. It was almost like a hallucination as you woke an instant before a gigantic peal of thunder that would shake the house.

    A favorite game of children where I grew up was when the storm was rolling in to count seconds after the lightning before the thunder (supposedly a mile for every second though I'm not sure how accurate that really is). You'd get three on one lightning/thunder, then 2, then you knew the next one you the storm was coming right over top of you.

    And as a practical matter I think it's way better to get all the rain over with in 20 minutes of pure deluge than (like here in Vancouver) 9 hours of constant drizzle.

  • Comment Link TJ Dawe Wednesday, 01 August 2012 19:24 posted by TJ Dawe

    The overwhelming power and majesty of lightning leaves no mystery as to why our ancestors saw it as the provenance of a deity. I just listened to a podcast that described how Ben Franklin was held in awe and fear by the British, as it was believed he hadn't just harnessed the power of the skies, but that he controlled them!

    The incident I referred to in this piece, of watching the lightning show in Winnipeg, happened on closing night of the festival, the festival itself being a hurricane of art and social activity. Just seemed a perfect end to the whole experience. This year, as you mentioned Corin, the storm waiting till closing to hit again. I came back to where I was staying to find the power out in the whole neighbourhood, and in the morning there were broken branches, some of them quite thick, in every yard, and littering the sidewalks and driveways.

  • Comment Link Susan Cuvelier Thursday, 09 August 2012 01:35 posted by Susan Cuvelier

    Glad you enjoyed my city's amazing theatre festival and even more amazing thunderstorms. Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night to watch the lightening from the picture window in our living room. The storms are truly breathtaking.

    Also, thanks for coming to the festival and for putting on a truly entertaining and moving performance. You had me in tears.

  • Comment Link TJ Dawe Friday, 10 August 2012 16:16 posted by TJ Dawe

    Susan - I can only imagine how spectacular Winnipeg's lightning must have been to a child. Even as an adult it feels like something from another planet, something I'm privileged to witness. It would certainly fill any child with awe, if they aren't hiding under the bed whimpering, that is.

    Very glad you liked my show in Winnipeg. Huge catharsis to perform it to such receptive audiences.

  • Comment Link Tim Hogue Wednesday, 15 August 2012 17:13 posted by Tim Hogue

    You should try lying in the middle of a wheat field watching one of those storms pass over, something I used to do a a kid - absolutely drenched and covered in mud but what a rush!

  • Comment Link TJ Dawe Wednesday, 15 August 2012 19:53 posted by TJ Dawe

    Damn, that must be a memory surpassing everything!

Login to post comments

Search Beams

Most Popular Discussions