This morning was the single most beautiful ride to work I’ve had. I commute on a motorcycle 17 miles each way, every mile of it on surface streets and at the mercy of the awfully timed traffic signals we have here in Tucson. So most mornings my ride is spent in a state of mild annoyance at having to come to a complete stop every mile or so, muttering (sometimes yelling) occasional curses inside my helmet. I know, I need to calm down. It just bothers me to know that if some thought was put into the traffic light system, we could all cruise at a comfortable constant speed without stopping so often, saving gas, time, wear and tear on our vehicles, and our sanity. People like myself wouldn’t feel like they had to drive like maniacs to maybe catch the next light. Other cities have this figured out. But I digress…
My ride this morning, though, was pure joy. I could care less about stopping. I actually enjoyed it because it gave me the opportunity to look around in wonder at the gorgeous scenes in every direction. The mountains that surround the city were wrapped in delicious layers of cloud and mist. We were the happy recipients of a fantastic overnight soaking, courtesy of a big mass of moisture laden air traveling up from Mexico. The roar of rain on the roof was enough to keep me up for awhile in the middle of the night. A record for rainfall (1.42″) on this date was set at the airport, and that was just from midnight on, so we can still add to it if we get more today. By morning the storm had lumbered slowly north, giving way to a most glorious morning. The air was wet and fresh as only Sonoran desert air after a rain can be. The mixture of smells in the air from the botanical celebration taking place was intoxicating…
