I love the rain. The way it pounds on the flat roof of the apartment. The way it leaves spatters on the windows that fragment the light. The way it obscures the vision of the tower into the distance from the balcony.
I love the wind. The way it blows around the barren corners of the building. The way it vigorously moves the trees with their summer foliage. The way it pushes out the pressing humidity of the warm summer days and replaces it with a blanket of fresh petrichor.
I love a good storm.