It is the way the air tastes that alerts me.
Clouds are no predictor of rain or storms.
But that heavy, ozone-laden weight on my tongue is seldom wrong.
Good stories have that taste, too.
Before the storm, before the water or the wind, the words start to feel heavier.
While there are freak showers, spot lightning, most storms send notice of their passage.
I love that moment when the air is sizzling, when the bottom of my stomach drops, because I can feel what is about to come.
Storms can be terrifying as well as beautiful.
But when I stand in the noise and the flood, I can connect the moments.
There is nothing like the flavour of disruption.
The taste of rain.