We had the most perfect thunderstorm here this morning. It seems like all we get in the way of storms anymore are the kind that are fast and angry. But this was one of those quintessentially Southern thunderstorms I remember from my childhood: slow and slack and subdued. The sun wasn’t even up yet when it started, and as the rain began to fall a bit heavier I caught the occasional grumble of thunder off in the distance. As it lazily meandered closer the rain wavered between a steady lull and a heavy rush. It must have lasted at least a half hour, and I spent all of it curled up in my bed just at the edge of sleep, the only sounds the storm and my own gentle breathing. It felt like a secret that the universe whispered only to me.