I love the open skies here. The contrast of heavy, rain-laden gray against the coral and lavender of the sunset. The moments before the looming storm rolls in from the direction of the mountains and rush out to un-pin the laundry into my basket before the rain starts. The way the wind whips the blankets and my hair like a living thing. The quick flash of lightning over the dun-colored hills, followed by the low grumble of thunder. ("Fun-der, mommy! Dere's da Fun-der!") The dance of pajama-clad children in the rain after a hot day. The marvelous double rainbow.
Maybe it was all those years surrounded by tall hills and buildings that capped the view to the end of the street. Maybe years of city-dwelling have increased my appreciation for the way that I can see for miles around and anticipate it's arrival. The thrill of the coming storm is both frantic and wonderful.