When I began a walk this afternoon, I saw dark clouds to the east. “Rain in the mountains,” I thought, wondering if I would make the loop back to my home base before rain reached me. The sun shone where I stood. I wasn’t concerned with getting wet, but I was mindful that I didn’t want to be in a rainstorm, especially if lightning accompanied the storm.
The fact is that monsoons in New Mexico mean you might get rain, and then again, you might not. At least that’s been the case for the three summers I’ve spent here. Dark as the skies might become—and they might well be dark nearby while you stand in the sunshine—rain on the desert plateau is something you hope for.
No rain today where I live. The air cooled down, but the sun continued shining, tenacious, in a sky mostly bereft of clouds. The wind had its way with the tall cottonwoods and the lone pine outside my balcony door, and the chimes made music. Somewhere nearby someone raised his face to the rain and smiled.
R. Harold Hollis
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