An Aerial Drama

MONSOONS OVER SEDONA A SOUND AND LIGHT SHOW A PORTFOLIO

THE COLOR BLEACHES FROM THE SCENE OUTSIDE OUR LIVING ROOM WINDOW AS WE HEAR CRACK! OOWACK! OOWACK! OOWACK!

We jump as the lightning reverberates through the very core of Sedona's sandstone cliffs and buttes. “Wow! That was close,” we chime together, as the refrigerator's hum stops in sync with the slowing of the ceiling fan. (We're used to the regular power glitches.) Big raindrops splotch the concrete patio and soon run together in the monsoon deluge. Nearby cottonwoods toss like cheerleaders' pom-poms, whipped by a fury of water and wind.

“Looks like this one's going to be a real gullywasher,” I comment. “And in an hour the dust will be blowing,” says my husband, Bob Clemenz, recalling local wisdom. Text continued on page 30

Continued from page 26 Summer days start clear and hot in central Arizona. By midmorning a few cloud scouts appear, progressing to increasing battalions of multilobed thunderheads. Some years you can set the clock by a 3:15 P.M. downpour, replete with thunder and lightning. Yet, intense as it seems, it usually ends in less than an hour. This one, an early evening event, colors the sunlight on the rusty cliffs a saffron hue, and cobalt-colored shadows deepen as it clears. We jump into our camera-laden SUV as the rains lessen, hoping for a rainbow, a brimming arroyo or the moving spotlight effect that paints pinto shadows over the landscape as the clouds break up. Laden with red earth from runoff, Oak Creek churns like boiling tomato soup. The temperature has dropped 15 degrees, and the night will be clear, soft and balmy. Today we have the luxury of trying to create just one good photo. The cameras stand always ready this time of year, and we can count on new special effects to thrill us tomorrow.