I’ve often wondered how I ended up living in the middle of a roasting desert when I so love the water. Being born a Cancer (water sign) and growing up on the Great Lakes makes it so. I invariably cheer up and feel galvanic whenever I visit the Pacific Northwest with its continual rain.

Right now there is a storm blowing through Phoenix but it probably going to be a disappointment. There is usually lightning and thunder but these are over quick. The storms here pop up rather suddenly like pop-tarts and when it actually rains it is like a sudden on/off of a shower head. They seldom cool things off.  Arizona monsoons are a bust.

Gads how I miss proper Midwest thunderstorms. They creep in slowly and ominously with large black-green clouds portended by deep slow rumblings like a volcano about to become active. When they hit the rain and stentorian thunderclaps make you jump out of your shoes. Oh how lovely.

Some dream of super-hero or god-like powers to do all sorts of things but I desire to be a storm god. Every culture has one or two of them (Zeus, Thor, and Thunderbird, to name a few). So Urs Truly as Thunder-master in-training isn’t too much to ask. As storm-god I would throw up my arms (with great panache) as if I were conducting the sky and whip up some lovelies. My Viking helmet could work quite nicely as conduit to channel the stratosphere into cumulonimbi of mammoth proportions (Wagner music extra). I promise to conjure up the mightiest for those who need rain the most (California) and reserve my hurricane wrath for the most wicked and depraved (certain parts of Florida, Alabama, and Kentucky come to mind).

By the time I have written this fancy the ‘monsoon’ has come and gone. I was mostly wind and distance rumblings with only a sprinkle or rain and no drop in temperature. Whatever storm god running the local chapter is again page 71. I plan to put in my application this week.

Late in the day addendum:
Sassybear (The Edna Mode of Super-heroes)  composed this delightful composition for me:

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