It's all dissipated, now, and everything is soaked. At the height of the storm, the wind was slamming sheets of rain against the windows so hard, and the thunder and brilliant flashes of lightening were so close, that the cats both went into hiding. They've only just now emerged. Of course, they insist on being fed, as compensation for their ordeal. They probably think it was all my fault, and they intend to milk it for all they can get.
Now that the rain has stopped, a marvelous calm has fallen over the night, and the air is rich and fresh. I'd like to have thunderstorms more often, even if it does mean leaving Sluggo off. Well worth it, I'd say, for such invigoration. The cats, I'm sure, disagree.