I recently discovered another blog. It's not new, but I'm a new reader, so it's new to me.
Carmi posted an awesome cloud pic, complete with story, and invited others to do the same.
So today, I ran outside when the storm arrived, and snapped a few shots.
And the story is ... I love, love, love a good thunderstorm. If at all possible, when the thunder, lightning and teeming rain hit, I will head out onto my front porch and watch. If the street turns into a river, I'm beyond delighted.
The reason for this response, apparently, goes back a long way. As a very young child, I'm told that I was terrified of storms. Hated them. Wailed when thunder cracked.
So my Dad took action. When the next storm hit, he put me in my bathing suit and took me outside, carrying me up and down the street in the storm, talking gently about how great it all was.
I don't remember that. I was too little. But I think about it every time I see a storm approaching.
Bring on the rain!