As a homeowner in Tucson, AZ, I know what it’s like to wait for the season’s first monsoon, that giving of life that your plants so desperately need. Not only does it bring relief to dry, yellowing cactus that, by July, are shriveling up upon themselves, but it also brings a cool breath of air after months of what feels like a hot blow dryer trying to cool your skin. Then there is the smell of wet creosote, a smell so welcoming in the desert and anticipated like cookies out of grandma’s oven. That smell means that rain is coming; even if you can’t see the storm clouds from the other side of the Catalina Mountains, you can smell them coming. And what would the stormy season in Tucson be without our own version of the Northern Lights show? Then sunsets here, especially when the clouds brew, are a must-see.

Last night the monsoons came at long last. It poured through the night and as I watched the lightning flash through the shutters I smiled, thinking of the cactus which must be drinking hardily. I thought about the photos I’d taken just hours before of the sunset, whose rays danced off the billowy clouds in the evening sky. An emotion overcame me: gratefulness.

And then, lying there in the dark, it hit me. I should start a photo series illustrating how, even if it seems that we don’t have much, we in fact have a lot to be thankful for. Thus begins a series I will call, “I Don’t Have Much, But I Do Have…”

…cotton candy clouds.

Thanks to God for the idea.