Tumbling Tumbleweed

Growing up in Michigan, I remember seeing tumbleweeds on a western show my dad and brother were watching one Sunday afternoon.  Tumbleweeds seemed exotic and foreign to me.  We simply didn't have them in Michigan.  Bushes pretty much stay wet, fresh and rooted there. 

I experienced my first real tumbleweed when I moved to Arizona in 1995.  It was the same time of year, monsoon season, when strong winds whip through the Valley of the Sun.  I was driving to a store in Chandler and suddenly a huge, dusty brown tumbleweed rolled across the road in front of me. 

Since then, I have seen a tumbleweed once or twice a year.  They appear seemingly out of nowhere and always bring a smile to my face, a twiny critter being chased by the wind.  I picture them with googly eyes. 

The kids and I were pleasantly surprised to come across this one in the school parking lot this morning.  Of course I had to snap a picture.

And now, for your listening enjoyment, the song that always comes to mind:

Saguaro Against the Sky

Most nights after feeding our miniature horses, I perch on a hill behind our courtyard wall to view the sunset.  If I aim my camera just above the wall, I get a spectacular image of my favorite giant saguaro against the evening sky.  I took these photos recently on three different August evenings.

I treasure every saguaro in our yard, their presence one of the main reasons we bought our home.  After living in north central Phoenix for several years, where palm trees and citrus dominate the landscape, I was excited to move a little farther out and experience more of Arizona's native plant life.  

Saguaros are found only in the Sonoran Desert.  These slow-growing cacti do not grow an arm until they are at least fifty years old.  For more interesting saguaro facts, visit the National Park Service website:  http://www.nps.gov/sagu/planyourvisit/upload/the%20saguaro%20cactus.pdf  

Considering the size and arms on my favorite saguaro, it has seen its share of August sunsets.  I like to imagine the people who might have passed by this saguaro over the years.  A vivid picture comes to mind of a dusty cowboy circa 1912, laying on the ground beneath her arms, staring up at the glittering stars as he falls asleep on a hot August night.  

Double Rainbow

The last time I captured a rainbow with a camera was in Niagara Falls, New York, 1994.  If you’ve been to Niagara Falls, you know this is no great feat.  Rainbows appear there regularly through the mist created by the falls.

A rainbow in the desert, however, is a little more rare. 

So I was ecstatic when, upon leaving my daughter’s middle school open house last week, we saw not one, but two rainbows arching across the open desert.

My daughter glanced up, remarked it was pretty, and went back to her texting.   After all, there were important matters at hand.  She had just gotten her middle school schedule at the open house.  Classes needed to be compared!  Teachers needed to be discussed!  Besides, when you’re twelve, you expect to see a double rainbow more than once in your lifetime.  When you’re 40-something, you realize you may not.

I pulled the car over to the side of the road, jumped out, and began snapping photos with my iPhone.  These were the images I captured.

I am no rainbow expert, but from what I understand, when we see a rainbow, we are seeing the various colors of light refracted at their respective different angles through raindrops.  When we see a double rainbow, we are seeing this refraction, then a reflection, and the refraction again.  Here are two sites where you can read about the science behind a double rainbow:

http://www.weather.gov.hk/education/edu06nature/ele_rainbow_e.htm

http://www.eo.ucar.edu/rainbows/

I would like to think seeing the double rainbow was a great sign of something – perhaps the middle school transition will go smoothly, even perfectly, for my daughter?  But deep down I know better.  The transition from elementary school to middle school will be a big adjustment. 

So I simply stood there in the middle of the desert and appreciated those rainbows, drinking in their outrageous beauty, until they began to fade.  And I will make a similar effort to appreciate every moment possible of my daughter’s middle school years, because I know they are once in a lifetime, and they will be over all too quickly.  Hey, there you go.