Apparently, our week of winter is over in the desert. Several days ago, it rained overnight, and as I was taking the dog for its morning walk, I passed by a neighbor’s rain-patterned hood. They must have recently waxed their car, because mine never looks like this after it rains. I was fascinated by the patterns and textures, so I returned with my camera.
Back in springtime, we had some days that were absolutely beautiful for hiking. No, not the sunny ones. The ones with clouds and rain threatening, even if hardly producing. Those were also great days for photographs, especially in b&w.
There’s no better place to capture photographs of rain than a rain forest. I certainly would be hesitant to bring out my DSLR under these conditions, so this is where I have learned to appreciate my phone’s camera. I’m not sure how well it shows up, but there were plenty of large drops coming down when I took this shot near Hilo last summer.
Takeoffs and landings near thunderstorms can be on the turbulent side, but occasionally there’s a visual reward for being this close. I’m sure I was the only person hoping we would sit on the runway longer because I knew the delay would give this view. We were just a couple minutes off from seeing this one full circle.
As you know by now, I’ve spent a significant amount of time in the desert, and I still have a sense of fascination when the rain showers move through. There’s a unique scent that permeates the air, and a sense of freshness with the rain settling the dust. Summer storms frequently arrive just in time for sunset, providing memorable light shows.
While in Hawaii last summer, I made two nighttime crossings on the road near Mauna Kea. On the first one, the skies were clear and the moon had set for the night. The stars were incredible to witness, and I posted that shot about a week ago. On my second trip, I was driving through fog as I made the ascent. Somewhere near the summit, I pulled over. There was still a still a light haze present, but I could see stars, despite the fact that the moon was still visible. As I looked away from the moon, I saw this….I call it a moonbow.
For this week’s Daily Post Challenge of Ambience, I tried to think of one place that captures the mood of the southwestern deserts. Monument Valley, in the heart of the Navajo Indian Reservation, tops my list. As with any location that is highly visited, there is the tackiness that comes with tourism. But spend a day in this valley, and seek out moments of solitude. If you happen to be here when the rains come through, you might be rewarded with sunsets like this.
Most people think I’m crazy when I say I enjoy going to Seattle in November. And that’s before I tell them I also enjoy walking around in this weather. My attitude might be different if I spent months here, instead of just being a visitor. I grew up in the Midwest, and remember long periods of dismal weather, and from that experience, I also remembered how to dress appropriately.
On this particular evening, I was walking around with just my phone in its Otterbox case. The rain was coming down at a substantial clip, even for Seattle. It rains much harder in the desert, but that’s usually for about five minutes. After I took the shot above, it occurred to me that I should head back to my hotel and grab my real camera. By the time I did, the rain had reduced to the standard drizzle. It never did rain again at night while I was here.