Monsoon Season

by Jen Jackson

Blog Last Updated; 8/16/2010

I woke up this morning to a gentle summer rain and an enormous double rainbow arcing down the valley. One end of the bow appeared to be less than 100 yards away. In the midst of this unexpected morning moisture, clouds and cliffs on the western horizon radiantly glowed with dawn light. And now the desert smells like rain. This is a gift of great magnitude. I love the summer monsoons.

This particular monsoon season has been a spectacular blessing ? especially after last year's dud. For weeks now, we've had almost daily moisture. One storm ten days ago actually dropped some snow in the La Sals. The mountains are green and lush, more reminiscent of June than August. Even the desert is verdant for this time of year, and last week I actually caught the scent of cliffrose on the wind as several plants have decided to embrace a second sense of spring.

After an intensely cold winter and wildly windy spring, this season's amped-up output is most welcome.

The garden certainly enjoys it. We now find ourselves with more food than we know how to prepare. Yesterday was a kitchen day for us, as we made a quart of salsa, two loaves of zucchini bread, six quarts of pickles, and 11 quarts of pickled peppers. And, of course, after this whirlwind of preserving, we discovered more monster zucchini and cucumbers that we missed in our initial look at the garden. Sometimes I wish I could also bottle up the essence of monsoon season in a jar ? along with the pickles and jams ? and save its bounty of blessings for other times of the year. However, perhaps in January when I am eating a few pickled peppers, I'll find a taste of the August rains and smile.

There is other bounty this season, not related to the weather. I think back to the rainless summer of last year and the linear quality of life. I spent the summer working long hours and biking many miles. This summer, for better or for worse, my work schedule is a bit lighter. I'm cycling less. And I'm learning much more. Finding my way around a gun is a new experience. I've been on the river several times, something I've not explored much before. Tyler is teaching me how to kayak. We're hiking peaks in the La Sals I'd never summited. I'm now able to run a chainsaw with a certain degree of confidence. And we're going climbing together next week ? my first time in the great desert outdoors that I love.

My brain is bursting with all these new experiences. Some of the overflow comes from frustration at not yet mastering any of it, but much of it comes from excitement at the fact that life still has the capacity to expand like this, that the range of possibilities is always vast, that I can continue to soak up new experiences ? just as the desert continues to embrace this blessing of monsoon rains.