I remember sitting in a car on a Kentucky hillside (the tyres will earth the power if a bolt hits us, right?) watching the lightning strikes get nearer and nearer as the storm swept up the valley towards us.

I remember rain in Philadelphia. The air pretty much displaced by water. The force of it and the roar of it.

I remember a huge thunderhead sailing over the fields (in Kentucky again) all lit up from inside by frequent lightning- like a citadel at war- and how I waited till it was almost directly overhead before I ran for the house.

This is prompted by jackiejj writing about hurricane Frances. Heigh-ho; we don't get weather like that in Britain.