Expectations

The rains came back this week. Bringing with them an exhale of hushed relief.

Monsoon Sounds (the chirping in the background is the hummingbirds, yes, the hummingbird wars are still in full swing)

This year was going to be cooler and wetter than normal, claimed the almanac and fancier models of weather prediction. It looked to be that way in the beginning with the rains starting earlier than the ceremonial start to the season of July 4th. But it didn’t last. July dried up and with it the hope of knocking down the fire threat rating from extreme to only high. They closed the most precious parts of the forest surrounding the mountain. Warding off another accidental catastrophe we have become too accustomed to. This is not the monsoon season I was expecting.

This summer has brought many thoughts and questions to mind I am wrestling with. The gap between my expectation of the season and reality of it have brought great discontent. This is making me search for answers.

I remember the year I first moved here, I arrived right in the middle of monsoon season. The only monsoon I had experience before was when I was young, visiting Estes Park Colorado with my family. That storm came at night, each bolt of lightning plastered the cabin in white light. With my head on the pillow, I watched a daddy long legs walk across the floor. Like an old motion picture, it advancing a few inches each time the lightning struck. That storm felt ominous. But in my adult life, after moving to Flagstaff, I quickly fell in love with the daily torrent. They stole away the heat of the day and brought the forest to life. Monsoon season quickly became my favorite two months of the year. And so, it is years like this that make me confront the uncomfortable question of would I still be happy here if it didn’t rain? Now I don’t think it would ever happen to have a monsoon season completely pass us by without a storm but what if only a few days of storms came? Yes I would be sad, but the frustration would set up shop in my mind. Sadness can be cradled, frustration over something you can’t control is more insidious. Frustration is born from unmet expectations. And that’s what I have control over.

Unspoken expectation is the root of so much internally manifested discontent. Whether in relationships, work, or life. And I’m seeing this to also be true with our interaction with the natural world. I understand the weather neither knows nor cares what my expectations are of it. And pining my internal wellbeing to it seems more and more like a fast track to madness.

I am grateful for the storms we’ve had the last few days. And for the rest of the season, I will do my best to welcome what comes our way and not have expectation for what's behind it.

Tomorrow: Wildflowers at Buffalo Park

Next Week: A new session of Nature Journaling at the Colton Garden starts up again.