Thunderstorms

It's storming here in Nevada. Bry called me from 3 hours away, asking how I liked the storm. I was puzzled because other than the customary wind, I hadn't experienced any actual storming. He went on to tell me how he and his co-workers got drenched, coal dust pouring off them in a black river. I laughed at how pathetic he sounded, missing him because I'd typically coddle him, hugging him and saying, "poor baby!" while I suppressed my giggles.
I finished watching Castle to bring in my garbage can and discovered it was missing. Also, the rain and thunderstorm had finally arrived to grace me with its presence. I walked up and down the subdivision, looking for the lone trash bin to no avail. My hair whipped across my face, the rain pelted down like drops of ice in my eyes. In the not-so-far distance, the thunder rumbled, lightning striking the ground to illuminate my surroundings.
I gave up the search because the darkness enveloped the outside world and entered my house only to be greeted by 8 terrified cats. Currently only five are surrounding me in my office as I type this, but the others aren't far away.
I sit and type this with a smirk crossing my lips. I'm reminded of when I was younger and the storms would rip across the Michigan landscape. My sister would grab her radio, extra batteries, flashlight, candles, snacks, stuffed animals, pillows and enough blankets to cover an entire town of homeless people and flee to the basement, where she hovered, listening to the reports of the storm on the radio. I'd be twirling, laughing and spinning in the backyard, my arms extended, eyes closed, face pointed toward the heavens, soaking up the rain as it poured down in buckets. I still find that childish sense of euphoria every time I'm in a storm. I love them. The rumbling of the sky, the crack of the lightning whips, the rain. I can't get enough. While I no longer dance in the rain, I usually open my windows so I can enjoy the smell of the ozone, the sound of the rain, and the feel of the wind carrying the moist air through my room.
What do you do in storms?