I am sitting out back on my patio writing this while a soft rain falls.
I’m sorry, maybe I didn’t communicate this emphatically enough. I am sitting out back on my patio writing this while a soft rain falls. In Arizona. In August.
In August!
If you live in the parts of Arizona that threaten to melt from June through October, you know what a man-bites-dog story this is. It simply doesn’t happen, except today — let the record state this is Aug. 31, for historical purposes — it did. Also, it’s 77 degrees, another unexpected delight, though that'll rise soon enough. But the thermometer hasn't been dipping below 90 degrees for a low lately. (Yes, you read that right.) What gives?
Is there a meteorological explanation for the cool weather. Who cares?
I’m sure there is a meteorological explanation. High pressure something,
low pressure so-and-so, this or that. I respect the fine work of meteorologists everywhere, but I don’t really care. I’m enjoying it on more of a metaphysical level. This is beyond science. This is a damn miracle.
Maybe you think I’m overdoing it. Maybe you think, so what, it’s rain, it’s no big deal, it happens all the time. Well, maybe you haven’t been cooped up inside whatever air-conditioned space you could find for the past few months, telling yourself October is coming, although these last few years it’s more like November is coming, and bringing weather with it that won’t make you feel like you stepped inside a wood-fired pizza oven when you venture outdoors.
(No, we aren’t crazy. Much.)
I grew up back east. I get it. Clouds and rain were hardly cause for celebration. A day with sunshine was the treat there. When you live in a desert that gets turned around. People in Phoenix and the Valley treat a cloudy day like the rare gift it is, a break from the relentless sun beating down.
Hot weather will return soon enough
And a day like this, a summer day with rain and a breeze and temperatures that make you think about reaching for a jacket, because why not, is Christmas come early. It’s a tiny little window into life the way people live it in other parts of the country, where you don't need gloves to touch your car's steering wheel in the afternoon.
Actually, it's more like Brigadoon, the magical Scottish village that only appears for one day every 100 years. It's fleeting that way. It's not quite a mirage, but close. The rain is real and all, but it'll stop and everything will dry up, and it is going to be hot for a couple more months, at least. By the end of September, everyone in the Valley will be in a bad mood.
And a day like today will seem like the dream that it is. Meanwhile, I'm going to go look for my umbrella. I'm out of practice.
Reach Goodykoontz at bill.goodykoontz@arizonarepublic.com. Facebook: facebook.com/GoodyOnFilm. Media commentary with a side of snark? Sign up for The Watchlist newsletter with Bill Goodykoontz.
This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: When is the first day of fall? In Phoenix, it feels like today
