I love a good thunderstorm.
Warm wind whips and whistles down the streets sending cigarette butts, crumpled receipts and dry leaves swirling in all directions. Specks of dust glow in deep sunbeam tints as dark clouds shuffle in the sky. There’s a warm and wet sense of electric anticipation as lightning bolts flash silently in the distance. Dogs bark in the background and everyone races for cover.
You hear the nylon swish of umbrellas popping open, the scrape of plastic chairs dragging across patios, and the adrenaline buzzing before the first big boom.
Here come the jumbo drops.