There's a really cool thunderstorm going on outside my window right now. The thunder is so close that you don't have much warning and end up jumping now and then. I just finished The Secret Life of Bees on the recommendation of my sister T who loves it. It's set in South Carolina for the most part, and whenever I read stories set in the South (like the Flannery O'Connor stories that I just read) I get to imagine all the humidity, heat, lemonade, farms, porches, drawls, big yellow fields, etc. And then summertime kicks in wherever I am and it just makes my imaginings even more tangible, because of the thunderstorms.
In CA growing up there weren't as many as in UT, MI or AZ, so it's not like I can remain as cool as a cucumber when they come around. I get all excited like a big nerd and watch and listen and revel in the awesomeness of them. And I picture the storms as a Southern thing, which I don't even know for sure is the case. Now my Southern reading kick is complete with real life cooperation from the weather.