Monsoon Memories

It's monsoon season here in Phoenix. It seems to happen about twice a year, and while it brings rare (and uncomfortable) humidity, the change in sky scenery is a welcome one. Large clouds move in quickly, and lightning can almost always be seen in the distance. Occasionally an actual thunderstorm hits, and the whole city stops to enjoy the sound and smell of rain.

As an Arizona kid, Daniel hasn't had much exposure to rain (or thunder, or lightening). We've taken him north for fun in the snow, and we've had plenty of pool time, but as far as water falling from the sky - he's a novice.

Needless to say, when a storm hits - he's interested. He wants to "go get the rain" and experience the weather. He loves listening to thunder. If he thinks he hears it, he shushes us and says in a hurried whisper... "Mommy, Daddy... did you hear that? Did you hear it?!"

Over the past few weeks, we have developed a routine that ranks among my favorites. It began with the first big storm of the season. That night, the storm snuck up on us quickly, waking Daniel with violent rain on his bedroom window panes and booming thunder. To calm him down, we all piled onto his bed, turned off the lights, opened the blinds and watched the storm together.

Fernando laughed at each thunder clap so Daniel would learn that it wasn't scary... it worked. Now Daniel declares "it's funny, daddy" each time it thunders. We counted the seconds between lightening, predicting when it would light up the sky again. (After that, sometimes even during clear nights, Daniel would look up at a cloudless sky and start counting, waiting for the lightening.) We watched the water running on the ground, and talked about the plants "drinking". It was an intimate family moment - one that we recreate as often as possible, while the storms last.

This year, I'm praying for an unusually long monsoon season.