About once every four or five years, a momentous even in Tucson happens: snow. This may not sound like a big deal to those who life in places that actually have seasons, but to those of us who inhabit the land of perpetual sunshine, it's kind of a huge thing. Anyway, I was sitting in a restaurant attempting to read some paper for work, when I looked outside and began watching the rain fall. It had actually been raining all morning (although I was asleep for most of it), and it was really nice just laying in bed and listening to it. I decided that it was time that I made peace with the rain since I had left Seattle, and in a strange moment of Zen and strong painkiller side effects from the aspirin that I took a few hours before, I did just that. Anyway, the rain has a funny way of apologizing, but it was really great at the same time. Sitting in the restaurant I noticed that the rain drops began falling slower, and then even slower. The next time I looked out the window, the snow was falling. That's the peace offering I get from mother nature: 1/2 an inch of show and people who can't drive in it. For the disconcerting out-of-towner (Snowbirds they are [not so]-affectionately called here), 1/2 inch of snow is nothing that interesting. However, we have closed schools for less in Arizona.
Snow in the Ol' Pueblo: Nature's oxymoron |
