Dark clouds huddled in tight formation. A loud clap of thunder rocked the sky. Perched on the peak of a two-story roof, a robin chirped and dove into an evergreen shrub. A collared lizard scurried under a flat slab of sandstone. Red ants lined up and marched into their hill, the last one hauling a pebble just big enough to plug the hole. Ahead of the impending storm, the scent of rain traveled on the light eastward breeze.
A brilliant flash of lightning split the sky above flat mountains of the Book Cliffs. Thunder boomed and rolled from the Colorado National Monument towards the Mesa. All at once the sky fell in a heavy downpour.
Streams swelled, drain ditches overflowed, puddles formed in low lying areas. Rain had finally smiled upon the desert region of western Colorado.
While animals scampered for shelter, I stood on my porch and observed nature’s symphony and art show. Cold horizontal drops pelted my face. Pine pitch mixed with the scent of rain. I closed my eyes and pretended to be high in the mountains, standing over a clear lake in the middle of tall spruce and aspens. Thunder crashed again. What a beautiful sound. I stepped into the storm and bathed myself in delicious drops.
Within thirty minutes, blue sky parted ominous clouds and sun rays burst upon heated asphalt. Steam rose and humidity spread its wings and soared. Shiny sidewalks and streets evaporated to their former dull state. A single puddle in the road held up a sign, “Rain was here.” Up the street, a large SUV clambered toward the puddle and threatened extinction. Before the vehicle stole my sunshine, I walked into the middle of the road…and jumped.