Tag: Flagstaff

Backyard Wildflowers: Mexican hat or prairie coneflower (Ratibida columnifera), in Flagstaff, Arizona.

Most of the flowers growing locally are the more common yellow morph. This red morph is much more showy. 

The monsoon rains have arrived in northern Arizona. After months of relentlessly clear blue skies, masses of clouds heavy with rain pile up every day, bringing welcome moisture – and a touch of drama. Sunset colors finally have a surface to reflect against, at least when the clouds aren’t saturated and black with rain. 

As inlandwest attests, people here behave differently once the rains arrive. The rains unleash a giddiness, a kind of mild delirium in pent-up moisture-deprived Arizonans. They get a bit frisky. Yesterday I watched a transit driver leave his bus to stand with his arms and face turned up toward the rain of a quick downpour. I’m only surprised the passengers didn’t join him and dance and splash in the puddles. 

And today, a fine hot day in July, the afternoon precipitation fell as snow and ice on Mount Elden, our 9,000 foot/2,800 meter extinct volcano in the back yard. The sudden whiteness in the middle of summer lasted just long enough to astonish and amaze, and then it was gone. 

The monsoon rains have arrived in northern Arizona. After months of relentlessly clear blue skies, masses of clouds heavy with rain pile up every day, bringing welcome moisture – and a touch of drama. Sunset colors finally have a surface to reflect against, at least when the clouds aren’t saturated and black with rain. 

As inlandwest attests, people here behave differently once the rains arrive. The rains unleash a giddiness, a kind of mild delirium in pent-up moisture-deprived Arizonans. They get a bit frisky. Yesterday I watched a transit driver leave his bus to stand with his arms and face turned up toward the rain of a quick downpour. I’m only surprised the passengers didn’t join him and dance and splash in the puddles. 

And today, a fine hot day in July, the afternoon precipitation fell as snow and ice on Mount Elden, our 9,000 foot/2,800 meter extinct volcano in the back yard. The sudden whiteness in the middle of summer lasted just long enough to astonish and amaze, and then it was gone.