There have been threats of rain for last week. Maybe there's been rain somewhere in southern Nevada, but not at my house. When I say threats, I am being literal, too. When it rains in the summer, it's called monsoon season. And monsoon season means flash flooding in the desert. And that means that one of those banners from the weather service constantly runs across the television screen with news of watches and warnings in the afternoon and evenings when any clouds come around. I don't think I'm exaggerating either. We don't get clouds much in the summer. Not much any time, actually.
Oh! Here it is! Rain!
And an urgent interjection on the television from the local news. It's an intense cloud cell that has apparently dropped an inch of rain already. I didn't need a news flash for that.
As my best friend, Miss D, says, "It's raining like a cow peeing on a flat rock!" I kind of wish I'd never heard her say that because now whenever the rain beats down in the severe storms we have, that's the thought (and image) that comes to my mind.
I should heed the flash flood warning because when it stops raining, I'll have a swimming pool-- in my garage. Nothing I can do about that so I'll just soak up the sights and sounds for the next few minutes.