Monsoon Season Today in the Verde Valley
Monsoon season started on July 4 this year, at least here in the Verde Valley of Arizona. Off the back porch, the cloud formations above the Mogollon Rim are absolutely magnificent and the lightning shows spectacular. Woke up this morning to the clouds beginning to percolate, first gentle mists, then these beauties, all followed by stupendous sound and fury signifying something. What could that be? Some folks are not engaged by black and white although light and dark, even with respect to color, comprise the essence of photography. In color, this image was essentially monochromatic anyway, yellow and gray, so I decided to render it as you see. Taken this morning at 1040 local time, or Zulu as they say in the military.
Monsoon Season Today
Speaking of the military, Chris and I were in Las Vegas last weekend and decided to check out a bar (oh my!) in which a parka is donned to accommodate the 20 degree chill factor. In the "icebox" we encountered two gentleman that had served in Iraq 2.0. One of them, I noted, was riding an elevated "scooter" that was necessitated by his wartime injury. This was explained quietly to me by his compatriot.
As I studied the injured young fellow from across the bar, I realized that I could not leave that room without saying something. "Your buddy shared with me a bit of your story," I started. I was surprised at his gregariousness as well as his open responsiveness. His eyes level with mine, we shook hands and chatted a little. His name was Brian. He'd been traumatically injured, losing everything from his hips on down. He'd helped invent the "scooter" he was riding and was in good spirits. Of course, the ice and I mean ICE cold vodka he was sipping (us too!) probably helped. By that time, Chris was getting really cold and we said goodbye and slipped out, a little bit ashamed.
As we were warming up outside, Brian and his friends emerged and we waived. A little while later, he came over and asked Chris if she'd like to play some ping-pong. He proceeded to give her quite a thrashing, which only added to our astonishment and respect. The game finished, Brian asked, "You seem very interested, any particular reason?" We explained that our son was soon due to deploy to some shithole, yes, shithole country and that we just could not ignore what our "kids" that serve often endure for our country. I was floored when immediately Brian replied, "It's hardest on a soldier's parents. God bless you!"
I have been thinking about this conversation for the last several days, sometimes on the edge of tears. This man had lost half his body and his last word was to bolster and encourage US! Just wanted to share this with you; it is worth reflecting upon, lest we forget those that we put out on the edge to protect our freedom. I know it may be a cliche, but that freedom has been hard won; let's not fail to remember their sacrifice.