Last Friday was clouded over, with a steady wintry mix of snow and rain all day. It was a day to stay inside and get caught up on the editing. For a while, I was able to do just that, until my sister, in New England, called on my cell. We found ourselves shooting the summer breeze and I was lamenting over the winter weather in Tucson this year. It has been the rainiest and coldest winter I can recall since moving here, fifteen years ago, I told her. Of course, being from New England, she could hardly shed a tear. Then, while looking out my front window, over my neighbor’s rooftop, I noticed the Santa Catalina’s had broken through the clouds. It was a magnificent, majestic, jaw dropping, sight to see!
The rain had, apparently, stopped, but for how long? The forecast called for a steady stream of precipitation to continue well into the next day. As a photographer, I could not allow the rare opportunity of seeing the Catalina’s blanketed in so much snow go by, without at least attempting to capture some photos for posterity. What is here today may quickly be gone tomorrow. “Sis, I’m sorry! I love you but I have to go!”
I grabbed my camera, backpack and lenses, jumped in my car and headed out, to an unobstructed spot, away from the rooftops. Along the road, there were people pulled over everywhere, snapping photos with their cell phones. I was tempted to do the same thing for fear the moment would be gone, but banked that the opening in the clouds would hold long enough to get to higher ground.
Thankfully, it did. A few minutes after I took the photo above, the pitter-patter of rain began to fall, harder and harder, as I made my way back to my car. I stopped briefly to snap a few more, just before the mountains disappeared, again, behind a curtain of clouds.
The photo below was taken earlier this winter, New Years Day, in fact. I include it because of the similar subject matter. I love the interplay of sun and clouds on the Catalina’s
