Standing in the intermittent dark on my back porch I imagined the scene I was witnessing as the ghost of cities being destroyed by the ghosts of bombs. One flash after another raised brief bright domes, the collapse of each being followed by an intensification of the constant rumble that filled the night. And there was actual rain, which continued even after the lightning had moved southeast and the rumble had diminished and grown intermittent again.
Although there were a few lightning strikes quite near, almost all of them were farther south, in the valley or the lower foothills. If the rain was as constant there as it was here then I doubt any fires that got started in the brush would have remained alight for long. But it was long after midnight when the lightning was no longer flashing, and only then did the rain slow and cease and the night grow silent again, except for the dripping of residual raindrops that had been trapped in the foliage of the trees. Altogether it was one of the most spectacular electrical storms I've ever seen, but I was a bit disappointed that it didn't bring me so much as a single hailstone.
But what the hell. You can't have everything, and I did get my plants watered for free— and with no more disruption of electrical service than an occasional flicker of the lights. I'd say we got off easy, considering how much power must have been released by all that lightning. Of course I haven't heard any reports on possible damage to crops in the valley yet, and there is always some chance of fires getting started even in the rain, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to be sure just how lucky we were.
I kind of miss it now, though. It was quite invigorating.