Umbrella

Two pretty exciting things happened this weekend.

We had a major thunderous, light up the sky lightening, pouring rain, storm last night at around midnight.  It was house shaking incredible.  Our property butts right up against Tonto National Forest, so when I look out the back of my house there’s nothing but desert, trees, cacti, mountains and a magnificent mesa.  The mesa is usually a beautiful untouchable green, but we’ve also seen snow and fire.

The mesa has taken on an almost god-like presence for me.  She, I like to think of it as a she, looms near our house.  She’s elemental, mysterious, far away, but right there every morning when I look out the kitchen window.  She keeps an eye on us.  She’s sort of the conductor of all things that roll over her on their way to our house.

Last night she was in rare form.  I was just falling asleep when I heard the first bowling ball strike claps of thunder and then poofs of white light lit up my bedroom window.  My eyes opened and I could feel the rain approaching.  There wasn’t a lot of wind, but I knew the rain was on it’s way.  I thought of her out there, ushering in all the elements like some kind or swirling goddess.  It was ridiculously hot yesterday and I imagine she was pretty pissed up there sizzling in the sun.

Storms in the desert fall into three categories:

Lots of wind and dust, no rain.  These storms are teases and yucky.  It feels like it might rain, but all you get are tossed patio chairs, scratchy eyes and a dirty car.

Lots of rain for five minutes.  These aren’t really storms, they come out of nowhere, hover for a few minutes dropping crazy amounts of rain and then it’s blue skies like nothing ever happened.

Massive, raging, full symphony storms that happen during the monsoon season.

It was 109 degrees yesterday and still.  Gross hot.  Stay indoors, don’t even think about going into the garage unless you really need to kind of day.  The mesa kept a brave face, but when the sun set, she must have called in every favor she had to bring us the most spectacular performance.

I really can’t do it justice.  The thunder woke everyone up, the dog was shaking, the electricity blinked on and off and on again.  The black sky flash bulbed white that was then cut by fierce streaks of lighting.  Rain soaked everything, scuppers ran, trees and plants turned their faces up for a long tall drink.

The storm eventually moved into a grand crashing finale, packed up, and moved on.  As the mesa and I drifted off to sleep, I felt closer, thankful I got to live near her, humbled by nature’s power.  Magic happened last night.  I love magic.

Oh, I almost forgot the second exciting thing.  I bought new pillows this weekend.  I love new pillows too.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Go Back to Sleep.

10 thoughts on “Umbrella

  1. We were in the thick of it yesterday here in NM as well but ours was a late afternoon deluge. Since I’m pretty high up I can see for almost 100 miles and can watch it approach with the most spectacular lightning. One of the most enjoyable things about living in the desert.

  2. Those are exactly the kinds of storm we have in England too, except we don’t get the sand, just the oppressive waiting around for the rain to start. Good to know we’re not alone!

      1. hmm. I suppose they can be pretty fantastic! I remember when I used to visit my grandparents in the South. They had really spectacular purple skiers. Awesome lightning. I wish I had an excuse to go there in the summer again now that I have a camera!

  3. Nature’s been giving The Green Mountains a great show, too, these past few days.
    Go back to sleep? Oh, from your lips to heaven’s ears.

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