Peering through the window.
Awaiting the coveted
monsoon.
Long days of scorching heat.
Storm clouds roll in and roll out.
Or leave only sprinkles.
Droplets sizzle on the hot dry earth.
Teasing desert plants that wilt
in the relentless sun.
Thunder in the distance.
Rain in the foothills
again.
A micro-burst takes out a
neighborhood tree.
Finally, the pitter patter of
rain drops on our roof.
We rush out to watch it sink into
our basins.
And refill our tanks.
Is this the promised monsoon?
Where are the daily downpours of years past?
Struggling with the relentless heat.
I seek comfort in my little veggie
garden.
Palo Verde branches can't shield the plants.
Chard lays limp on the ground waiting for water.
Leaves yellow, tomatoes melt.
The path burns my bare feet.
Sad feet longing to sink into moist
soil.
Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
I rush back to relieve them on
the cool kitchen tiles.
Chilling in my casa.
Peering through the window.
At the desert habitat we lovingly
crafted, plant by plant.
Starlings, sparrows, finches,
thrashers, doves, woodpeckers
Peck for seeds in the mulch.
Vie for a spot in our bird baths.
A mockingbird torments a red-tailed
hawk.
Until it takes off on majestic
wings.
We gladly share this food forest with
feathered friends.
But thrashers break into our veggie
garden.
Hop and peck and knock off basil
leaves
Poke holes in tomatoes meant for
us.
A small price to share our yard
with endangered fowl.
Then greedy harvester ants strip every edible leaf from a cherished moringa tree.
This is the season of edible
purslane and sprawling, spiky goat heads.
In our rain basin transplanted
purslane thrives beneath hand-watered pollinators.
Nourished with captured
rain.
Birds and ants snatch the leaves
- the tastiest part for us too.
But hope reigns in the rain.
Leaves grow back, flowers bloom,
seeds spread.
Attracting the long awaited and
longed for quails.
One settles in a puddle under a
newly watered weed.
Wonder of wonders.
I watch from my window and smile.
A joyful sign of hope in the desert.
