stormy weather

This is the time of year that people who live here start searching the skies (or the internet) in the hopes that we can trade our brown hills for a tropical storm -- or, at least, a substantial summer shower.

Each year I have lived here, the late April weather has been a topic of dinner conversation. Well, not this year. The conversation was on the internet, instead of at the dinner table in this year 1 ANV (anno nostri virus). Late April usually brings us a respite in the relentless increase in temperature and humidity that usually climaxes in September. Mother Nature teases us into believing that our summer nights will be in the mid-60s with moderate humidity. And then, just like that, those cozy nights will be replaced -- as if that fat guy, who never complies with the towel policy, dumped another coffee can of water on the sauna rocks. But, this year has been different. We are now flirting with the start of June, and our evenings are still in the 60s. But, not for long. The weather seers offer up two pieces of evidence. The first is the short-range weather prediction. Starting tomorrow night, the lows will be in the 70s -- and climbing. There is a second sign, though, that summer weather is coming. In late May, I start my day by looking at NOAA's National Hurricane Center map. The map acts as something of a sonogram for the birthing of hurricanes -- and their less-dramatic cousins: tropical storms and depressions. Two days ago, a yellow "X" showed up in the Pacific far off of the coast of Panama. There was a 20% chance of cyclonic formation. This morning the "x" was orange. 40% chance of cyclonic formation in 48 hours. Most of these formations do not turn into much. They will wander around like a disorganized political science professor for a bit -- and then settle into the background. But not always. Some will turn into depressions and move north up the coast of the Americas. Others make it to tropical storms. A few will become hurricanes. In the 12 years I have lived here, I have ridden out two hurricanes (Jova and Patricia), and a handful of tropical storms. If they hit our coast, there is always significant damage to agriculture and infrastructure. The area always recovers quickly. I have no idea if that orange "x" will get promoted to a red "x" in the next day or two, but it does have the potential for setting off our rainy season. I cannot remember the last time it rained here. (That is why I write these esaays; so I do not need to remember.) Even if "Disturbance 1" (as NOAA has so poetically named it) turns into a storm and heads north to Baja without touching us (which is a normal storm pattern here), less-dramatic clouds will bring us rain. And I hope it is soon. It is a bit ironic that our area may be opening up gradually from our informal stay-home virus order just in time for the rain to strafe our beaches. But, that may not matter. Mexican tourists are resilient. If they come to the beach, a little rain is not going to stop them from enjoying their day.