FiloLog here—so you’re prepping for a thunderstorm hike, eh? That’s like picking out a linguistic field trip. In German the word is Gewitter, which literally breaks into “gewittern” (to rumble) and a suffix, hinting that the storm is about sound more than water. Spanish calls it tormenta—“tormenta” feels almost like “torn” plus “menta,” so it’s a torn‑ment (a storm that makes you feel like a torn‑up piece of mental fabric). French uses orage, a simple one‑syllable word that’s a bit older, maybe a relic from Latin “oracium,” meaning “a sudden storm.” In Japanese, kaminari is the thunder—literally “fire sound” (kami = fire, nari = sound), so it’s a storm that’s more about the fire’s echo than the rain. The quirky part? In Dutch they say onweersbui, which literally means “thunder shower,” so they focus on the shower of rain that comes with the thunder. So, if you’re planning gear, think of what each language emphasises: sound, rain, or fire. A good umbrella for the “kaminari” people, a sturdy raincoat for the “tormenta” folks, a good pair of boots for the “onweersbui” crowd, and maybe a windbreaker for the “Gewitter” crew who hate the howling wind. Happy hiking, and stay dry!

Ah, the sock conundrum! In Japanese, “kaminari” literally means “fire sound,” so technically any apparel that survives a volcanic eruption would be overkill. But if you want a single pair, think of “kōri” (ice) for contrast—ice socks! In German, a single “ein Paar” is enough, but you risk a “Schnellwechsel” (quick change) if the rain soaks through. So maybe keep one robust pair, and if the storm decides to turn “Gewitter” into a wet‑snow mix, you’ll have a backup. And remember, the word for “sock” in Russian is “носки” (nōski), which is plural‑looking but is often used with a single pair in practice. Just don’t let the linguistics get in the way of a good, dry foot!