Rare photo of the moment lightning strikes the ocean
Lightning can strike up to 10 miles away from the center of a thunderstorm, meaning boats can be hit even when the sky above looks clear.
The average lightning bolt over water contains up to 1 billion volts of electricity, enough to power a household for several months.
Fish deaths from lightning strikes are rare, as the electrical charge dissipates quickly in water and doesn’t penetrate deeply.
“St. Elmo’s Fire” is a weather phenomenon sometimes observed by sailors, where glowing plasma forms on ship masts during electrical storms.
Lightning strikes over oceans play a crucial role in the nitrogen cycle by converting atmospheric nitrogen into compounds that can be used by marine organisms.
The Catatumbo lightning in Venezuela, occurring over Lake Maracaibo, is the world’s largest single generator of tropospheric ozone. It produces lightning up to 280 times per hour, 160 nights per year.
Ocean lightning tends to occur more frequently at night due to the greater temperature difference between the warm water surface and cooler air above.
On September 10, 1957, photographer William C. Beall from the Washington Daily News was assigned to capture a parade organized by the Chinese Merchants Association. While his focus was on the procession, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a young child captivated by the performance of the Chinese lion dance. The little one ventured off the sidewalk to get a closer look, only to be intercepted by a tall and kindhearted police officer who patiently explained that it was not safe to cross the street in the midst of the parade.
“Suddenly, I saw the picture, I aimed my camera, and I clicked,” he would recall.
The resulting photograph captured a moment of childlike innocence and wonder, earning Beall the Pulitzer Prize in 1958.
Alice frowned and clasped her hands together as she did whenever she felt hurt.
See? replied the White Rabbit.
Now you’re going to start asking yourself what makes you so imperfect and what did you do wrong so that I can’t love you at least a little.
You know, that’s why I can’t love you.
You will not always be loved Alice, there will be days when others will be tired and bored with life, will have their heads in the clouds, and will hurt you.
Because people are like that, they somehow always end up hurting each other’s feelings, whether through carelessness, misunderstanding, or conflicts with themselves.
If you don’t love yourself, at least a little, if you don’t create an armor of self-love and happiness around your heart, the feeble annoyances caused by others will become lethal and will destroy you.
The first time I saw you I made a pact with myself: “I will avoid loving you until you learn to love yourself.”
