Dust Storm: A Review

The locals tell me that tomorrow is the official start of monsoon season here, so it seems appropriate that on the eve of such a season, its trademark weather would greet the valley. This trademark specifically being the yin thunderstorm and the yang dust storm; or as national media popularized the phenomenon a few years back, the "haboob." Around 6:30 MST, I received a text message alert noting a "Dust Storm Warning." I hurried and looked out the window, promptly blinding myself by looking directly into the sun. There was hardly a hint of wind, and while clouds had been building all day, weather reports showed the rain edging the mountains that surround Phoenix, rather than falling in the valley. But this dust storm was apparently moving in. One last quick scan on the horizon and I decide I had time to wash my hair. I hurried, not wanting to miss any of the action. Once again approaching a window, I was careful to not stare into the sun, and checked for any action. Nothing new, except maybe there was more wind. Another text alert popped up on my phone, warning of the imminent danger of the impending dust storm. In a huff, I stomped back to the window. I've been told they come from Tucson, so I looked in that general direction. By now, the light had somehow changed, a golden glow emanating from somewhere beyond my range of sight. The sun was still glaring in its blinding light, but watching the trees lash out, it was obvious there was more wind. Beginning to wonder if maybe this was some kind of false alarm, I moved to another window, throwing a casual glance between the blinds and my jaw dropped. Perched on the horizon was a massive cloud of golden sand. It was kind of like this:

Probably time to run for your life.

I hurried around the apartment, opening all the blinds so I could watch what these things were all about. I stepped out onto my porch to watch, but decided to head back inside when the wind pulled a "bend and snap" on the tree closest to me. Beyond the question of how I would get to a hospital, how would I explain a vicious tree-slapping to the ER doctor? Everything took on a hazy hue as the dust rolled in, and I wondered with some concern if scorpions could fly in dust storms.

That would rock you like a hurricane.

The main event was mostly over within 20 minutes, and I'd say the before, during, and after storm stages closely mirrored the typical thunderstorm experience. The storm moves in, the sun disappears, there is general mayhem, and then it's over. Afterward, the air was musty, thick with the scent of wet dirt, but 20 degrees cooler. Blessed cool. There were a few drops of rain, the first precipitation I've seen in 66 days, and then some of the most spectacular lightning I've witnessed in my life. I might not mind this monsoon season business.

Having now officially been "haboobed," as it were, I feel very Lawrence of Arabia. Just call me Christin Leigh of Arizona. My sister even got me a keffiyeh for my birthday.

I totally look the part, right? Me and Lawrence.

And...secretly hoping this rolls in with the next dust storm.

Good plan.