At about 3am last night, I was awoken by an incredibly fierce thunder crack. After my initial panic wore off, I lay and enjoyed the storm: sheets of rain, strobes of lightening (new collective noun - write that down) and rolling booms of thunder. The coolest part was the echo of the thunder around the building canyons near my house…that, and the weird feeling of being a little kid again, scared in the storm.
I’ve always loved storms - I can remember climbing on the roof of my house as a kid to watch them barrel in from the west, and then fly overhead to the coast. Last night I sat awake and thought of my roof in Lane Cove, as I watched the storms bombard Beijing from the relative safety of the 21st floor.
By 4:30am, I was tired and wishing the storms would just leave. And then they did, leaving behind only rain and still air.