I love the monsoon, with warm dry mornings, exciting skies building slowly by late morning, lightning and thunder by late afternoon, and a good downpour by sunset, and a cool night for sleeping. I like the power and semi-predictability of it, and the break from solid blue skies. Here are some pictures from our summer jaunt last year. More coming in later posts before the real thing next month.

Wupatki

The monsoon left behind something else too, a brilliant carpet of jade overlaying the red/brown hue of the spring and autumn. I never imagined I would see the heavenly blue of morning glory blossoms strung on vines woven among the prickly pear, saguaro and ocotillo, until we spent our first monsoon season and hiked through waist high grass where there had been dry stubble through the annual wildflower season.

The red origami folds of saguaro fruit, ripened open and rapaciously consumed by desert flying critters, then dried into brilliant red “second blossoms” of the giant cactus through the beginning of the spectacular, and regular storms.

A second cactus bloom adds a blaze of red to the pastel of the monsoon annuals. Now, the air crackles with dryness again, the nights cool and the days too. The sun rules now, clouds insubstantial waifs losing the battle; the change of prevailing winds pushing tropical moisture away.

In a few months, another change will bring moisture scudding in from the Pacific, whatever small amounts not dumped on Washington, Oregon or California.