What makes a storm feel like it’s watching you?

Just sat in the car after chasing a weak supercell that didn’t produce anything. The sky was bruised purple, and the wind kept shifting like it was testing me. I’ve been doing this for years, but moments like that—when the air feels too still, too aware—still get under my skin. It’s not fear. It’s something else. Like the storm isn’t just weather, but a thing that’s decided to notice you back.