Wild Fire Research Paper

As I stepped out onto the balcony of my grandfathers tall, rustic cabin, the smell of wet dirt hit my nose. As I gazed down the mountain and across the valley, I could see dark and ominous clouds were quickly rolling towards us, heavy with rain. The straight line winds produced gusts that were as powerful as a tornado. It was about 8 oclock on that Montana summer evening, and even though night did not officially come until 11, night would arrive early as the clouds overshadowed and blotched out the last of the suns bright orange glow. A powerful lightning storm was approaching and it would show an impressive display of its might that I would not soon forget.

The thunder roared loudly, shaking everything within range of the mountain. The sound echoed down the mountain and into the valley. My dog stood next to me whimpering hopelessly and pacing back and forth nervously at the sound of every clash of thunder. Inside, my family also seemed nervous because Birds Eye, a small mountain community, is one of the most lightening prone spots in the country. Despite this fact, I enthusiastically stood out there, leaning against the balcony rails with my digital camera in hand, hoping to capture the mighty bolts of lightning that cracked the sky.
With every strike came the risk of death and yet I continued to stand there waiting to take the perfect picture. Just as soon as the strikes came, they disappeared. The atmosphere was electrifying. There was so much static in the air that my hair began to stand and my camera began to malfunction. The smell of wet dirt and rain intensified as the powerful gusts of wind blew in my direction. The mountains across the valley became less visible as the torrential rains, looking like a wall of thick fog, approached faster. I was still not satisfied with any pictures that I had taken. I began to nervously fumble with my camera and accidentally took a