Down here in Cajun land, we get hot,hot, days, then in the afternoon you see the clouds boiling black, wind starts slowly whistling, and a sharp smell of clean air cuts into your lungs like a sharp knife, KABOOOOOOM! Thunder crashes, drops as big as a pecan, Air is so fresh and clean as rain crashes on your tin roof sound like 100 crazy Bangos playing off tune. Damn I love the South and the rain.