Thunderstorms are quite possibly one of my most favorite things ever.

Growing up on the east coast, I spent a good deal of my childhood looking out the window watching them approach.  I LOVED to watch the winds pick up.  The leaves on the trees would turn over and became this cool silvery green color.  We’d sit on our back porch and watch the clouds roll in, and as soon as it started to rain too hard, or the lightning got too close for comfort, we’d head inside and watch through a window.

For me, there’s nothing like the sound of a rumble of thunder.

After moving to California, it took me a LONG time to come to terms with the fact that I was lucky if I’d get even one thunderstorm a year.  ONE.

As you’ve probably heard, California is experiencing some crazy weather right now.  And by crazy, I mean it’s been raining.  A LOT.

I was beyond happy this morning to be woken up by thunder and lightning.  It was 6am, I was cozy in my bed and I was able to enjoy the rumble of a decent thunderstorm.  It was awesome.

Until it woke Zach up, who freaked the fuck out.  He clearly doesn’t share my appreciation for a good storm.

I’ll have to work on him.

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