Random Memory - Kayaking in Puerto Rico Lightning

Must have been just about exactly five years ago that Nikki and I were kayaking in Laguna Grande, a tea-colored, brackish lagoon east of Old San Juan, Puerto Rico. It was dark out, and we were navigating through a bioluminescent mangrove swamp by feel, pushing off the branches overhead to propel ourselves slowly with our hands, ducking our heads in the tree tunnel, spying on huge iguanas that were sleeping in the branches - when a lightning storm that had been looming suddenly came to life directly over us. The flashes were was so intense and all-consuming that you couldn't say it was coming from one direction or another. It was either directly upon us, or all around us or both. The thunder was instantaneous, and each clap knocked a deluge of fat rain drops off the branches. The storm left as quickly as it formed. Afterward we enjoyed some swimming and watching little fishes dart around in the dark water beneath our boats, each leaving a glowing a blue/green wake behind, like little sub-aquatic shooting stars.