The city of Phoenix and the east valley bore the brunt of a violent monsoon storm during the evening of the last day of August.  In the morning the local news stations reported that over 75,000 homes were without power overnight and were showing pictures and video of downed trees and power lines, crushed cars, damaged structures, and flooded streets and freeways.  Here in Sun City, nary a drop of rain fell and the 60 mph winds that whipped through the eastside barely whispered through the west valley.

As I handed Mom her morning mug of coffee, I glanced at the TV where channel 5 was showing what used to be a 6 foot tall cement block wall that separated a residential area from a shopping center and was now a 20-foot span of flattened rubble.

“That storm sure made a mess of things,” I commented.

“I guess so.  But, as usual, nothing here,” she replied.

“I know, but this time I think I’m glad it missed us.”

“Maybe.  But that’s only because we’re higher,” she said.

“Higher?” I repeated.  “Higher than what?”

“Higher than the other side.”

“I didn’t think we were that much higher or lower than the east valley,” I said.  “I’ll have to check it out.”

“Don’t bother,” she called out as I walked away.  “It won’t make us any shorter or any wetter.”



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