How I dislike being woken up by storms. Though I've never cared for them, I can tolerate them when I'm awake. Being shocked out of sleep, though, tends to turn me positively cavewoman.
Awake and panicked at around midnight last night, I lay with my head under the covers so as not to see the flashes. Steeled myself against the thunderclaps which caused the house to shudder. After a few minutes, got enough of a hold of myself to close the front windows and check on the rest of the house.
The cats, who usually won't have anything to do with me when I'm frightened like this, seemed pretty scared themselves. I ended up plugging my ears and dragging some covers with me to the Safe Spot under the piano bench to be with them. Eventually things quieted down a bit; they went from defensive crouching to lying down next to me and my heart stopped beating so frantically. A little while later, we all managed to fall asleep again for the night.
Harry, who lives a couple towns over from me, couldn't sleep either, apparently. Instead of panicking, however, he made better use of his time and captured some of the spectacle: