Weather Hicks
Living in Arizona, you get used to convection oven heat. You also get very used to rubbing it in when your friends from other parts of the country are complaining about snow, sleet, tornadoes, etc. It's fun!
Eventually, even we desert dwellers need a break. It's supposed to happen during our monsoon season. Back in the day (I'm talking 30 years ago), monsoons rocked. Pretty much every night you could count on a big dust storm and rain. Lots of rain. Oh, and some of the most fantastic lightning.
Alas, climate change and the fact that Phoenix is a huge heat island have made those consistent storms a thing of the past. Today, we go for weeks at a time without any break in temps. There might be an occasional cloud that hints at rain but it's mostly clear but humid (for us which means anything in the double digits).
Until it's not. Then it's like the most fantastical event ever! Aliens making first contact would get less notice than rain's arrival.
Wednesday was a fantastical day. I was half following Tweetdeck which shows me both my Twitter and Facebook feeds when I noticed the start of "Looks like rain!" comments. Followed immediately with "No rain at my house!" comments. It was easy to trace the storm's path as it hit various parts of town.
Because there's an oddity in our rain. It can be pouring buckets and one block over it's completely dry. We seldom get the storms that sit and soak the whole town. So we rub it in to our local buds that our weather is better than theirs because we have water falling from the sky and they don't (sorry, Tucson, that you didn't get any rain).
Pretty soon after that, I heard raindrops on the roof in my office. I have to go to the lobby to look out the windows and, sure enough, it was raining. I walked back to my department and announced, "People, we have rain". Very soon after that, the lobby had more people in it watching the rain.
Because that's how we react to the fantastical, we are mesmerized and amazed.
One of my co-workers actually went outside and stood in the pouring rain until she was fairly drenched. It was coming down that hard and was that welcome.
Of course, that's when I had to leave the office. I tried to get to my car with minimal wetting but managed to soak my sandals in the small lake that had formed. And, of course, as soon I as got half a block away from the office there was no more rain.
But there was humidity! Thick, can't breathe through it humidity. We can handle 110 degrees just fine but make it 85 and 85% humidity and we melt. And whine. Yep, we're wimps.
Thursday was lots more of the same. The storm was a lot bigger and meaner and people posted pictures ranging from slight sprinkles to flooding and wind damage. Again, it was the biggest news in town and I saw it all unfold via the magic of social media.
This morning, I woke up to sprinkles coming down. Sure enough, the local Facebook statuses mostly revolved around the weather. I guess when it seldom deviates from hot, it's the most newsworthy item of note.
Eventually, even we desert dwellers need a break. It's supposed to happen during our monsoon season. Back in the day (I'm talking 30 years ago), monsoons rocked. Pretty much every night you could count on a big dust storm and rain. Lots of rain. Oh, and some of the most fantastic lightning.
Alas, climate change and the fact that Phoenix is a huge heat island have made those consistent storms a thing of the past. Today, we go for weeks at a time without any break in temps. There might be an occasional cloud that hints at rain but it's mostly clear but humid (for us which means anything in the double digits).
Until it's not. Then it's like the most fantastical event ever! Aliens making first contact would get less notice than rain's arrival.
Wednesday was a fantastical day. I was half following Tweetdeck which shows me both my Twitter and Facebook feeds when I noticed the start of "Looks like rain!" comments. Followed immediately with "No rain at my house!" comments. It was easy to trace the storm's path as it hit various parts of town.
Because there's an oddity in our rain. It can be pouring buckets and one block over it's completely dry. We seldom get the storms that sit and soak the whole town. So we rub it in to our local buds that our weather is better than theirs because we have water falling from the sky and they don't (sorry, Tucson, that you didn't get any rain).
Pretty soon after that, I heard raindrops on the roof in my office. I have to go to the lobby to look out the windows and, sure enough, it was raining. I walked back to my department and announced, "People, we have rain". Very soon after that, the lobby had more people in it watching the rain.
Because that's how we react to the fantastical, we are mesmerized and amazed.
One of my co-workers actually went outside and stood in the pouring rain until she was fairly drenched. It was coming down that hard and was that welcome.
Of course, that's when I had to leave the office. I tried to get to my car with minimal wetting but managed to soak my sandals in the small lake that had formed. And, of course, as soon I as got half a block away from the office there was no more rain.
But there was humidity! Thick, can't breathe through it humidity. We can handle 110 degrees just fine but make it 85 and 85% humidity and we melt. And whine. Yep, we're wimps.
Thursday was lots more of the same. The storm was a lot bigger and meaner and people posted pictures ranging from slight sprinkles to flooding and wind damage. Again, it was the biggest news in town and I saw it all unfold via the magic of social media.
This morning, I woke up to sprinkles coming down. Sure enough, the local Facebook statuses mostly revolved around the weather. I guess when it seldom deviates from hot, it's the most newsworthy item of note.
