By the time I finish typing this they will be gone. I love them. They bring me an enormous amount of joy, an immesurable sense of calm.
They make me want- no, need - to curl up under a soft blanket and read a good book. They are the only thing that makes a cup of hot cocoa or tea sound good.
I used to be terrified of them. Any time they would start creeping in I would try to find something to distract myself. When they brought thunder I froze in horror. Surely I would die this time.
Now I look forward to the next thunderstorm. If the clouds come quietly, without the ostentatious show, I still love them. I can appreciate their huge, billowing mass; the layers of varying shades of grey, almost black in places.
The dull light filtering in through the windows uplifts me.
I don't know why.
picture from Near Worlds