Get Real, Horatio

In Tucson, we get the monsoon. That goes something like this.

“Ugh, it’s hot. And bright. And–wait, where did that cloud come from? Oh, it’s coming this way. Maybe we’ll get some–“

And that’s when the attack comes. Not from the front, but from the side. FWOOSH!! from the other two clouds you didn’t even know were there.

Okay, it’s maybe not that sudden. But if you’re walking north, especially if you’re listening to your Walkman personal music device, you could totally get blindsided by a storm from the south. Once I was in a house and it was pouring rain on one side–and the sun was shining on the other. You could not even see the clouds from the windows on the west side of the house.

Other times, it’s deceptive. The clouds start building around lunch time, and you’re keeping an eye out the window, thinking of the glorious storm to come, watching those cumulonimbus climb higher and higher…and then nothing. One spectacular sunset, but no rain, and by ten the entire clear sky is staring down at you going “gotcha.”

But as soon as you decide that if you see it coming, it’s not actually coming–then it really gets you.

This is the Rillito “River” normally. Seriously. 99 visits out of a 100, the Rillito River is dryer than than that five-year-old Easter candy you fished out of the couch a while back. (at least, you HOPE that was a jelly bean.)

This is the Rillito at another time.

 

When they say don’t go in the washes they mean DON’T GO IN THE WASHES. Which creates a problem, since many of the roads just go THROUGH the washes (scroll down to the road closures).

See the “Feet of Water” sign?

It’s not a joke.

The monsoon is something amazing, that people who don’t get it…don’t get. I’m reminded sometimes that as small as the world seems to have become in this age of internet and dear friends seventeen hours ahead in time that we’ve never met, there are still plenty of things that most people don’t know. And I count among the most, definitely.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
– Hamlet (1.5.167-8), Hamlet to Horatio

Why am I ranting about this tonight? I’ve been watching documentaries and TED talks of late. And while I take a lot of notes on cool things to use, sometimes I’m sitting there going “I can’t use that. It’s too unbelievable! It’s TRUE, but too unbelievable to put in fiction unless I also write a biologist (physicist, anthropologist, et cetera) to explain it!”

Bamboo blooms about once every hundred years–then it dies. And it dies in great swaths, because an entire forest can come from one bamboo. The death of the bamboo is a harbinger of rat plagues, disease, death…

Some sand dunes sing.

People hunt hornet larvae. Other people steal food from lions. Right in front of the lions.

For reals. So when you read about a furred landsquid, don’t even start with me, okay?