After one of our dynamic monsoon deluges in September, I took a photo of a single drop of rain at the end of a leaf of the mesquite tree that resides in our backyard. Recently, I magnified the drop and, lo and behold, there was the reflection of the world upside down with the sky and clouds at the bottom, the fence reflected at the side, and trees showing above, or rather, below the fence.

I am no scientist, not physics, nor biology, or chemistry, so I cannot tell you why this raindrop reflects so perfectly the world around it – but upside down.  I call it a wonder, a miracle of nature, and I’m good with that explanation.  It is, in fact, beauty; a beauty that goes unremarked if not examined closely.

Rain, a miracle in the desert, ushers in a plethora of natural marvels. Grass sprouts up on heretofore barren ground. Flowers, waiting for the moisture, bloom with exuberance. Our mountains, usually in a variegated wardrobe of browns, tans, gold, and grey, turn green. Our air is flooded with the intoxicating smells of the creosote bush and acacia tree. The scents bring with them feelings of serenity.  Scientists say the volatile oils of Sonoran Desert plants produce some of the most healthful scents in the world.*

Everyone smiles after a torrential monsoon – it just happens.

Last week I read an essay called Radiances** by Grace Little Rhys. In it, she extolls nature through the innocent observations of children; the radiance of sunlight, of jewels, of rainbows, and of flowers.

“Do you love butter?” say the children; they hold a buttercup under your chin, and by the yellow light that rises up from it and paints your throat, they know that you love butter.” *

We left monsoon season and are entering fall. I can’t say I miss the heat, but I do miss the thunder, the lightning, the cloudbursts, the drama, and the smells of monsoon. I’m so happy to have this photo of the drop of rain that captures the world after a downpour. I will look at it often, in wonder, as I await next year’s monsoon.