they say the monsoons are drying up

It's not bad enough that the stock market keeps dropping, that friends and colleagues are losing their jobs, that family bank accounts, including mine, can barely keep up with bills even though cancelling magazine subscriptions escalates; no, that's not bad enough: today I heard the weatherperson say the monsoons are drying up. Apparently after so many days of dropping dew points, they can make such a conclusion and although we have had slightly above normal rainfall, what we desert dwellers know is that, although the monsoons may dry up, the heat isn't going away for about a month or more.

Yes, we can see that the shadows lengthen earlier in the evening, but it's still 100 degrees when the sun goes down. Yes, we notice that the birds sing later in the morning, but it's already 82 degrees when toast is being buttered for breakfast. It's summer heat without the "big bang bonanza" at the end of a sweltering day. The monsoon is something to talk about other than the lousy economy or SB 1070. "Where were you when the lightening struck?" "How much rainfall at your house?" "Did you notice the desert toads in the swimming pool?"

Without the monsoons, table conversation turns downward like our moods. It's time to roast green chilis on the sidewalk and say "the heck with this; it's summer and I am tired of trying to be cheery and smart. I want to take a siesta all day and wake up to a cool breeze from the North."

It's not easy to accept the reality of days of summer until Halloween. By the time the goblins come out, our skins are dried as the dead grass, and, like the dying flowers of summer, we have lost our bloom and sag like empty bags of mesquite flour.