People love it when it rains in the Southwest - especially here in Roswell, New Mexico. It is raining now, outside my window, gently, as I type this. I was supposed to go to work this morning, but the rain will delay our work. I am a roofer. A blue collar worker. I like it very much. Even though I have plenty of snobby background, there is nothing like working off my abundant male energy on the roof of a house in 90-degree weather.
This area is blessed with the most ebullient cloud formations I have ever seen in real life. The sky is so big. The wind carries the water droplets across the land, where they explode onto the Roswell sky in every direction. Artists over the past century have flocked here in smallish numbers to paint the towering arrangements of clouds. Victor Higgins is my favorite sky painter. Look him up.
Normally it is very hot here. This first-floor apartment is usually muggy and suffocating, even when the weather takes a turn for the cooler. I usually prefer no clothes at all when I am indoors. The blinds shut, of course.
