It began with the wind.
At first, just a small whisper with a morsel of heat that remained from the fiery day before. It was enough to make one pause, wondering if the long-lost visitor had finally knocked on the door. Then, the howl rang out and it was apparent - change was on its way.
That was last night around the witching hour.
Temperatures had soared around 110 in the Tucson Valley for most of the week, which was most unpleasant. We've been hearing the call for patience by the weather(wo)men, but I know I was turning the fourth-corner of my wits and debating whether or not to research some rain dances.
Well, the signs that I noticed in the air were not telling a lie - as if they ever do. The monsoon season is upon us in Baja Arizona.
The 4th of July was orchestrated as a time for human-made fireworks, now Mother Nature will show us some real power.
As I listen to the drops hit the ground around me, I can almost sense the earth taking a deep gulp of sustenance. The air fills with the sweet kisses of the creosote, a scent of ancient gods and goddesses that call on all creation to respect, love and preserve all the beauty that surrounds us.
I love this time of year.