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Well yeah it does make me happy when I'm safe inside. Certainly not when I'm out in it!
Can confirm, been caught in insanely dangerous and intense lighting storms, didn't feel happy. I was terrified.
Perception of a clear negative helps perception of positives I suppose
I'm the opposite, nothing gets me out of the house as a big, extremely windy and wet storm; I adore walking during a storm :)
I guess it's also somewhat different, psychologically, when you do it intentionally, rather than having no other option than endure the storm unprotected.
Calming sounds of storms are great to relax to, reading a book or having a rainy day activity are quite nice.

However, storms are loved probably because when it storms predators are also hiding, it is a moment of peace in the animal kingdom.

It also means that the ecosystem is getting life from water, plants will grow and there will be food to eat.

Just like the Sun rising everyday, it is comforting to have something that contributes to being alive show up.

I also wonder if some of the blissfulness is from modern amenities that protect us from storms, like strong houses or cars. It may not have been so blissful scrambling up a tree on the savanna or hiding in a cave where other predators might take refuge.

For storms this is a maybe but for bad winter weather, I think it’s likely. Hard to see why we would find winter weather calming except by contrast to safe, warm protections surrounding us. The romantic ideal of being in outer space aboard a ship like the Enterprise is similar too.

The only mildly concerning thing about a thunderstorm in a hot weather are the lightings, which very rarely actually hit anything. It's actually nice to get some time out of the excruciating heat.
Flash floods, mudslides, hail, wind damage, fallen trees to name a few others
If you are a farmer, that can get his whole harvest ruined in a few minutes, you are not likely to find the storm very soothing.
When I moved into a 17th century farm in the Swedish countryside I quickly learned to dread the sound of thunder, especially when not at home. The reason was to be found in the rather ancient and dilapidated power and telephone distribution networks which lacked - and still lack - things like overcurrent protection. The effect this gave on anything electronic in the house was, to put it mildly, not pretty. Lightning did not have to strike the power or telephone line, it was enough for a strike anywhere near one of these to cause an electronic-frying pulse to be delivered. I had a stack of ADSL modems to swap out fried ones after which I repaired or 'fixed' (as in disabled fried non-essential bits) those which weren't beyond fixing and added them back to the stack. When I finally got tired of repairing fried pieces of equipment I installed my own overcurrent protection system on the incoming power line after which the misery stopped. Initially it stopped because of the sudden and suspicious absence of thunderstorms, leading to all sorts of superpowers being ascribed to that grey metal cabinet I hung on the wall. Now, with that box and a glassfiber connection instead of the old copper phone line Thor is mostly welcome again, just as long as he refrains from starting forest fires - of which we've had 2 this summer, not on but ever closer to our land...
Reminds me of back in the late 90s, any time there was a thunderstorm, the clerks at the public library would go around and unplug all the computers. Anguish and misery for all us kids awaiting our turns on the precious internet terminals we'd signed up for hours in advance.
For those of us who are introverts, being inside on a stormy evening means we don't have to justify why we're not going out - only a fool would go out. And we know no one will come by. So we lock our door and enjoy the sound of raindrops on the roof, as we inhale the solitude.
Well, applied to myself I'd say: The running helps, also the feeling that you should not be doing something else then just wait until it is finished. We hardly feel that we need to survive anything anymore, it may be something that lifts the spirit because simply a will to survive is important. This Blissfulness does not really surprise me.
A big power cut also helps sometimes. Suddenly, people are out, neighbours and strangers are talking to each other, and there is a weird blissfulness.

And then everything goes back to normal, and people go back to avoiding each other.

I have a theory that the less resources that are available the friendlier people are. Camping, power outages, rural communities, people are easier to approach and talk to when there's less stuff available.
I have on several occasions run out into the weather, to experience first-hand the raw elemental power of a storm. It is an utterly exhilarating and awe-inspiring experience. It's a shame that where I live, weather systems are rarely energetic enough to develop into severe thunderstorms. On the other hand I'm glad we don't have hurricanes or tornados…
even a fool knows to come in out of the rain ;)
Rain does not get through proper clothing. As the saying goes, there's no bad weather, only insufficient equipment :)
This also explains the beneficial effects of pets.

After all, negative ions are cat-ions.

Does anyone have a view on air ionisers and their usefulness with regards to mood?

From what I gather, commercial units are sold based on how well they remove odours but nothing much is mentioned about mood elevation. Can the benefit be had from buying a $100 machine or is this just goop science being sold in an electronic box?

Placebos can be extremely effective.
I'm interested in this as well. I bought an ion air cleaner 20 years ago and it welded the dust particles to the walls wherever anything was touching the wall. Had to repaint. Not sure if there are models that work.
In Dutch we have a verb that feels suspiciously related to this: uitwaaien - "uit" means "out", "waaien" is the verb for the wind blowing. "Uitwaaien" means to take a walk in rough weather to let the wind clear out the thoughts in your head.
In Ukrainian we have a similar провітритись, literally meaning "let wind blow through self". I suspect that many Slavic languages have the same.

I wonder if English has something of that nature as well.

Given a modicum of physical security, storms may well make many people feel better because they are do-or-die moments ( or feel like them).

That report you have to file with your boss next week? The fight with your partner? The stupid irritating thing your kid won’t stop doing? Completely and totally irrelevant, now.

You have no ambiguities about what the goal is, and you know that you don’t need to justify this to anyone: it’s a storm, you have to get through it.

That’s actually a weird kind of freedom: where most choices have been removed from you by powers well outside anyone’s control, which bear you no personal malice, you just have to roll with it, and nobody can fault you for that, and sometimes that feels great.

I sometimes feel the same way when sick and I accept that I'm just going to have to put everything on hold until I get through it.
That sounds a bit related (but maybe not quite the same as) the concept of benign masochism.

You're also making me wonder: if we have a sort of "baseline happiness" then maybe we also have a "baseline fear and worry", and perhaps it is healthy for our minds to have an outlet to apply that fear to. Something concrete and external to apply the nagging worry in our heads to

benign masochism sounds more like https://kellycordes.com/2009/11/02/the-fun-scale/ to me.
Without further context I can understand why that is one expected meaning of the term, but a quick skim read suggests it's not the same thing.

The TL;DR of benign masochism is getting the upsides of feeling in danger without actually being in danger. It is one of the explanations for why people can learn to like spicy foods, for example: it is harmless pain.

I have noticed the effect of the weather on my moods. Only a particular kind of weather: basically rain, or the heavy overcast clouds that precede a rainstorm. Not any cloudy day, only if there's a strong likelihood of heavy rain.

It is noticeable enough that I can tell if the weather is like that when I wake up in the morning, before opening the curtains to look outside.

The feeling I get from that weather is kind of depressive, a bit lazy.

Putting these things together, some years ago I came to the idea that perhaps it's evolution's way of persuading me to stay at home, keep warm and dry and not catch a cold. I call it a "cave day"... instinct says: stay in cave.

This is distinct from the exhilaration of a storm.

Possibly related is the nice cozy feeling of being warm and dry in the middle of a downpour. I particularly like it if you can hear the rain, such as when under and iron roof or in a tent.

> Breathing in the ions could also activate the vomeronasal organ, a piece of nose anatomy thought to detect pheromones, and somehow send a positive message to the brain.

I wonder if this is what happens when you can smell that a storm is coming or its about to rain?

The effects of a storm are pretty interesting. I was going to argue that it would be hard to say that storms would have an impact of most people because most people do not care or are not mindful of what's going on. If it is a major storm you don't have an option. Which can lead to being mindful and aware of what's going on around you. Like a cold shower in the morning will bring you to the present. During a storm you are thinking about the now.

The weather and strong storms have always been exciting to watch. I still haven't seen a tornado, but that is on my bucket list to see.

I can relate to that. Once i ran along an electrified (with overhead wires) rail line, located somewhere up the slope of a valley during a thunderstorm. I've been soaked wet by the (warm) rain, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I could look down into the valley over the rail line from the way on which i ran between the pine/spruce trees. Lightning came at least every few seconds, thunder was rolling and cracking all the times, some lightnings struck the poles of the overhead wire. With blue/purple/white tendrils/webs. Everything looked like being illuminated by a stroboscope. The air was a mix of ozone and pine. I felt weightless, like i could fly. Ecstatic. Suspended from time.

Very different from when i did for example extreme fast bicycling with Lucifer from Alan Parsons Project on my headphones in endless loop.

Whole other level, for maybe 20 minutes, after which i had to turn back because of the way, and the thunderstorm moving onwards.

I recall a moment from my teen years. I was riding a bicycle with my much younger brother through remote fields. And a thunderstorm was rapidly approaching with lightnings striking the ground closer and closer. That was not blissful at all.