rainy day woman

woke up today to a dull roar and the unmistakable smell of desert rain.

i've woken to rain before. i've sensed the vibration of it hitting my legs as i lay curled in my bivy, watched it roll off the domed window on top of the yurt, or even risen in my residence hall apartment to realize i could not hear it at all. some days i dread getting up and out into the rain while others i can't wait to jump in the puddles. rain is a gift, a curse, a cleansing, a warning, a metaphor for power, life, sadness, catharsis, emotion...

...yeah i could go on. but i am not feeling all that woo woo today (those of you who know me please feel free to insert your own personal chuckle here).

i was going to climb the highest peak in arizona today. though not looking for an alpine start, the plan was to leave shortly after sunrise to avoid the heat and really make a day of it. i mean, as long as i have the time for a 6 hour hike on a wednesday i should probably take advantage right? the arrival of this torrential alarm signaled to me that i would have to make other plans. i thought about being angry but decided quickly it was no use.

the weather turned into a boon however when i decided to head down to sedona for the day. to call the drive down the canyon dramatic might be an understatement. the mist cleared in patches, revealing brilliant sunbeams that cut through the clouds and turned the showers to silver. the pale rock gave way to deeper reds that shimmered with waterfalls. usually dry washes roared underneath the road, and i could taste the tang of wet ponderosa in the air. the person in front of me on the road went 5-10 mph beneath the speed limit. usually that would really annoy me, but today i took it as a chance to see rather than move.

sedona reminds me of most of the tourist towns i've visited in the west - arty, expensive, beautiful, and sleepy. upon my arrival not even the coffee shops were open. i sat on an empty patio overlooking the rock formations and breathed in quiet. though i am certainly enjoying flagstaff i will say that it is hard there to find true silence. cars whir by on the freeway, trains rattle their tracks, the apartment i am staying in buzzes with electricity, doors slam and people crunch by on the gravel outside. none of this bothers me. in fact, i hardly notice until i get somewhere totally quiet. then the stillness rings in my ears like a harmonious symphony.

i do love that tourist towns sleep late.

despite dropping all this elevation it remains cool out, and the wind rises and falls. the earth-colored houses hide amid the trees, trying desperately to blend in with the rocks. so many of the residents here have planted lavender in their gardens that its scent clings to my clothes from walking the streets. i look back up towards flag and see dark clouds, the fringes of which swirl over my head. after a couple of wandering hours i have been driven inside by the kind of shower that soaks you through even as the sun makes you squint. you look for the offending cloud but all you see is blue sky.

moments like that are brilliant.

of course, they also make me homesick (if i can call it that) for the coffee houses of the pacific northwest.

i am however determined to just enjoy the day. now i sit at a bar with a terribly beautiful view sipping some tasty cabernet and trying to blot out the voice in the back of my head that tells me i should be writing cover letters or looking for graduate schools. i can see that the rain is going to slow, and in twenty minutes you won't even be able to tell there was weather. my feet really hurt from all the blisters i've incurred in the past few days, but i think i'll get out and walk some more in a bit.

am actually not sure why i wrote this. usually i only blog when i have some kind of major point or interesting story. if that is what you were looking for when you read this i suppose i could apologize, but then again this IS my blog. in the absence of a camera it's as good a place as any to collect my thoughts.

so excuse me but i think i might head back out into the rain.