It’s my first night in Clovis, New Mexico, and there’s a storm brewing outside. How appropriate, since there’s one brewing in my head as well. My husband and my six-month old son and I have just arrived here, after driving from Las Vegas, Nevada. I’m tired, cranky, and already beginning to panic, even though we have been in this town less than three hours. But as the sun sets on this attractive, high-plains community of approximately 35,000, and the wind begins to blow, rustling the leaves on the old oak tree out front, I feel my spirits rise. In my mind there is no problem that a good storm, particularly a thunderstorm, can’t cure. And in Clovis, in the summer, thunderstorms can be a regular occurrence.