If two incidents can make a pattern, we have one. Two years in a row we have had a Noah's flood monsoon storm pass through the Foothills on the Fourth of July. Do we know how to celebrate the Fourth or what?
It's not just the wind and water. The Wet brings out critters you otherwise never see. Our Fourth of July gathering is blessed with frogs -- one tiger striped little fellow found its way into the kitchen where a guest, familiar with these things, pronounced it an endangered striped Chiricahua frog and gently took it outside.
The down side is the croaking. These frogs make a lot of noise -- all night. They are looking for mates and they don't have a lot of time. The sound is not as pleasant as frogs on Whidbey. It's more like the wailing of something in great pain. Lovesick, I suppose.
So frogs have become a staple for our Fourth of July parties. No, we don't eat them. We just look at them with flashlights. Then the following morning we net them out of the cement pond -- easily a dozen or two.
But the tortoise yesterday was a first. We had a big pour yesterday. Monsoon rain can be very local. A quarter mile can make a huge difference. Lately most of the rain has hit downtown and south. Yesterday it hit the Foothills, up to two or more inches depending on location.
When the rain gets that heavy, I am out in the back sweeping water away from the back doors. As I often complain, people here don't think about rain when they build houses. Without the wood dams that I have caulked down by the thresholds, sheets of water would be oozing into the TV room and kitchen. Not good. The concern is enough that I sweep the water away. It's a fun way to get exercise and really get into the Wet.
So I'm out there sweeping water and there is this tortoise by the side of the house. I have no idea where these guys live 51 weeks out of the year, but it's astonishing what shows up in the Wet. Bugs the size of pigeons. I can hardly wait for the tarantulas.
It's not just the wind and water. The Wet brings out critters you otherwise never see. Our Fourth of July gathering is blessed with frogs -- one tiger striped little fellow found its way into the kitchen where a guest, familiar with these things, pronounced it an endangered striped Chiricahua frog and gently took it outside.
The down side is the croaking. These frogs make a lot of noise -- all night. They are looking for mates and they don't have a lot of time. The sound is not as pleasant as frogs on Whidbey. It's more like the wailing of something in great pain. Lovesick, I suppose.
So frogs have become a staple for our Fourth of July parties. No, we don't eat them. We just look at them with flashlights. Then the following morning we net them out of the cement pond -- easily a dozen or two.
When the rain gets that heavy, I am out in the back sweeping water away from the back doors. As I often complain, people here don't think about rain when they build houses. Without the wood dams that I have caulked down by the thresholds, sheets of water would be oozing into the TV room and kitchen. Not good. The concern is enough that I sweep the water away. It's a fun way to get exercise and really get into the Wet.
So I'm out there sweeping water and there is this tortoise by the side of the house. I have no idea where these guys live 51 weeks out of the year, but it's astonishing what shows up in the Wet. Bugs the size of pigeons. I can hardly wait for the tarantulas.
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