Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Monsoons, baby!

We have arrived in the rainy season, finally. Finally, for a lot of reasons: it's been so dry, which is saying a lot in a part of the country that gets maybe 9" of precipitation a year; it's been so brutally hot and even the little rain we've had so far is a respite, despite the humidity it brings; and just because I love a good storm. I missed some rain when I was in Tucson last week but it made a curtain call today. And it was awesome!

I sit with my back to a wall of windows when I'm on the computer, which is always these days, except when I'm standing at the copier. I live a scintillating life. But this afternoon, as I swung around to put another article to bed in a box (yay!) I looked out and across Interstate 40 to a full-out pounding rain on the horizon. Within a couple of minutes it had crossed the freeway. Raindrops so fat I thought they were hail. Rumbling thunder. Black, evil skies. Trees tossing and whipping with the wind. Rain blowing like a wave across the pavement. Then it was over, leaving a sheen of wet and the most marvelous organic smell behind. Not just wet earth, but a blend of earth and vegetation and fresh.

This is the beginning of the monsoons, which I thought was pretty funny when I heard the word in context with a short-grass prairie, but that's what they're called. I finished work, went home to Grace and got out the camera. The rain was done, at least for a while, but the sky kept taking bows.

A faint rainbow hugged the bottom edge of a brooding cloud in the northeast while rain poured down all around it.

This is one of the weird things that I've noticed about the rain here, that you can be in the dry center of a circular curtain of rain. People are doing rain dances, praying for rain but it usually seems like it's over there.

One of the things I love about storms like these is the strange, glowing light.

Ragged clouds kept forming and dissipating, a never-ending show.

This session has dripped a little more rain this evening but I'm waiting for the next powerhouse. There's nothing like a good thunderstorm.


Thought of the day:

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. (Langston Hughes)