Because it certainly doesn't seem to be arriving outside my grateful heart.
It's nearly June, people, and look at this. This is what the sky has been like nearly every afternoon for weeks. Our monsoon has decided to come early. And most likely will never leave.
Many of us welcome the moisture, and for the most part it is a good thing. In moderation. Yes, I said it. Rain is good in moderation. Especially here in the desert. Because after a certain amount of time, the ground reaches its saturation point and what you get instead is an overflowing of the arroyos and flash floods carving out brand new arroyos in places where none had existed before. Like in people's front yards and throughout the entire city of Rio Rancho.
Mother Nature's funny that way. Not funny-looking funny, but funny ha-ha funny, as in we humans are only on this earth for some Higher Power's greater amusement. I know if I were a Higher Power, I'd most certainly get off on playing with us lesser creature's minds. "You have to get to Boston this November for your best cousin's moonlit wedding out on the Commons? Ha-ha! Noooooooooo, small human creature, I will conjur a snow storm the likes of which the Eastern Seaboard has not seen in a bizillion years and we'll just see how badly you want to wear those dyed pink silk shoes!" Stuff like that.
You know what really gets me, though? The people who get off on gloomy weather. You've seem them, oh they of the endless flannel-shirted wardrobes and unremitting navel-gazing and soul-deep sighs punctuating diatribes about how everything is so haaaaaaarrrrrd and the world is so terribly unfaiiiiiiiiiiir and everyone (except them) is so stooooooopid. And that's okay. That's why God invented Seattle. But for the rest of us, God also invented the Caribbean, South Florida, and the friggin' Chihuahuan desert, in which I happen to make my humble home.
Now, weather, go and be Chihuahuan. It's time we got this summer show on the road. Because I for one have had enough of mourning.