In part, I suppose that's because these storms often leave their mark upon us - like closed roads or power outages. But it goes beyond that. For me at least, the major fascination is the opportunity to witness storms in the larger context of the environment we occupy. The cloud movement in this storm has been vigorous and varied. In addition, the lake and harbor, so dominate in our sensory lives, are storms themselves as winds churn surfaces streaked by patterns of changing color intensity and hue.
Trees sway and moan, with the big pines leading the chorus.
My guess is that they are migrating from someplace to the far north, perhaps Hudson Bay, heading for their winter home via the Mississippi flyway and were blown east of their track by the strong westerly wind. They look tired. Ridge hugging black bottomed cloud clusters are moving rapidly to the east. I imagine myself at the bottom of a clear river looking up at a fleet of hippos swimming by. A walk to the lighthouse a few minutes ago confirmed the source of much of the noise of this storm.