Rain

The first rain of the monsoon season is as close to magic as we get in the desert.  As of Monday it had been 86 days since we'd had "measureable precipitation" which was a few drops at Sky Harbor; nothing here in the southeast valley.

Early Monday evening, what looked like a ginormous brown waterfall loomed across the entire southeast, coming toward us like something Spielbergistical.  Then it was upon us, engulfing us, smothering, so thick we could scarcely see the house across the street.  The sun was enough above the horizon that the weird, soupy thickness of it turned from brown to umber to sienna to black cat-in-a-coal bin.  Flashes of lightnng from the southwest, but the blizzard was so thick we heard nothing; just a suffocating stillness.

Then the rain began.  Steady, dense, vertical, magic.  We stood outside, no words, taking it in.  The desert was silent except for the raindrops, as if it had caught its breath, unbelieving.  All the plants exploded with perfumes - me!  over here!  hellllloooooo!!!  I'm ready for anyone who will take me! 

The scents, aromas, if they had been a color would have been a lurid crimson.  We inhaled breath after deep breath, holding hands, amazed that rain had come once again, that we had been here to experience magic.

Today at our house it was 114.8.  Friday we head up to the cabin for four days, where the forecast is Frequent Thunderstorms.  C'mon Mickey, wave your big hand faster.