struck

uncanny book cover


Not so long ago, somebody I don’t know, or didn’t, got struck by lightning, hiking along a Rocky Mountain ridge in Colorado. She died.

Erik could do more with the story than I can; he writes these brilliantly poetic contemplations on man and nature (he’d never say it like that) and all the intricacies, ironies, overlaps, and gaps, between them.

The victim was three years younger than me, a graduate of my alma mater. A wholesome girl, with a straightforward name, and a sister. She worked for the Sierra Club in Billings, Montana, then was promoted. Still with the Sierra Club, she focused on energy issues and conservation throughout the Southwest, protecting sacred Indian lands and rock art, campaigning against oil and gas drilling in Otero Mesa and coal mining at the Zuni Salt Lake.

This woman’s life (i.e. her death) made me think of all the people who’ve done nothing since university, who did nothing then. And the opposite, those overachievers who did so much and are still so accomplished, and so rightly proud, keeping the alumni newsletter chock-full of their arrogant little announcements.

Something tells me this one was different.

Emmanuel (whom I still want to call Mr. Bensah) has also been concerned with the death of a stranger lately. These things catch us unawares, the ties between us so very tenuous, and yet so strong.