Something about a thunderous sky soothes me: The ashy clouds puffed against each other, The many layers texturing a normally seamless sky.
Smell of rain blending into the sweet scent of cut grass, The thunder storm vibrations rocking me to sleep.
Or the silver, purple, and turquoise lightning that pierces the Earth--
Perhaps it's the ominous void which the world shrinks within; The vacuum of warm pressure before a chill strikes the air, Maybe the gust of wind that threatens anything that stands.
Whatever the reasoning is, I am at home...