We love them and we hate them. Like mice caught in cages left in the sun, we gasp for their arrival and then hang on tenter hooks as they loom larger and larger. Summer monsoons have arrived and while we are thankful for the cooler temperatures, the shade the clouds afford and the moisture, we also rue the lightening that causes fires in our forests.
It really cannot be denied, though. There is a real thrill each day as we look outside in the morning to see if the cloud cover has remained from the afternoon before (usually, it hasn’t). The first sign of the buildup of the massive moisture heads offers promise of an afternoon of spectacular views. The thunderheads rear their heads as the airflow from the south forces what moisture it carries to condense when it is forced up and over the rim country.
If we would abandon our hectic pace for just one day and instead spend the time watching the lifecycles of these majestic clouds, we might well be able to put our small worries into a worthwhile perspective. Like elder day gods slowly standing up to reveal themselves before us, we are amazed at the forces within the brilliant white masses overhead. Great billows form and sweep ever higher, reaching their maximum height and then spreading across the “ceiling” with which they collide.
Then, what was initially white and fluffy, turns darker, more ominous, rapidly showing the real intent of this old god – to bear down on the world below and sweep before its sheeting rains all that needs to be cleared away.
Yet, even though we recognize that there is real danger in the downpour, if it happens “over there” and not where we are, we feel a pang of loss – “But, we need the rain over here!”
When the thunderclouds do station themselves above us and deliver their double-edged gift, business as usual stops. We marvel at the flinty smell of the initial drops. We revel in the coolness of the cloud cover and the coldness of the rain itself. As the leading edge of the rain wall sweeps towards us, we watch with a perverse pleasure, almost as if a tsunami were rushing towards us, at once struck by both the beauty and the destructiveness within the wall of water.
Some of us rush out in the downpour like reawakened children to absorb that which we have hungered for. Others find a comfortable place to sit and watch as the world darkens and all of nature suddenly turns its mouth upwards to drink, to gorge upon this true manna.
The rain often can become frightening in its intensity and destructiveness. We watch in horror as streets and driveways fill to overflowing and gardens that represent hours of sweat equity are swept away. Gullies and washes fill fast, rocks rolling downstream before the water’s force clash together, surprising us that their sound rises above the rain, the thunder and the wind. It would be no place to be caught unawares. If you didn’t drown, you would be pummeled to death by the bones of the earth crashing into you.
Finally, the deluge lessens and we again feel mixed emotions – happy to have the great scouring come to an end, and sad to remember that the respite from the heat and sun is nearly over. We venture out to survey the damage, ruing the work of mopping up and resetting our landscaping. Yet, we are thankful for the much needed water, the blessed coolness, the cleansed feeling that comes after the storm. But, the mixed emotions return as we scan the horizon and see the small columns of grey smoke begin to rise and build, signaling that the storm has also left its mark, not by water, but by fire.
We love the monsoons and we hate them. If you would like to better understand what is happening overhead in these storms, why not pick up a book from the Library that does just that? A quick search of the online catalog using the term “weather” produces more than 1300 titles, Network-wide, and more than 154 when you search this library only. Some are novels, some are even cookbooks, but there are a large number of titles that offer explanations of the weather in layman’s terms, that once grasped, offer a satisfying understanding of the forces at work, the cloud types, and much more. Pick one up today, before monsoon season is over.