When a piccolo is the drummer on metal rooftops, when the sky itself is the taut grey skin of a great bass timpani, being struck by lightning in tune to Nature’s thoughts, when the air is electric, conducting a symphony of sound, changing on a whim the dynamics and power of the world outside my window – I know that Nature is giving a concert, and the best thing to do is to stop and listen – in the most wonderful case, to fall asleep and let the air conduct your dreams with the sounds of a thunderstorm.