The storm passes

After the storm, Tubac, Arizona. Oil on stretched canvas, 10x10, $100.

The last time it rained in Tubac was December, my dad tells me. But yesterday, it rained. It thundered. It poured.

And then, late in the afternoon, the storm moved away, the sun came out and behind me, as I stood and painted the clouds over the mountains, a huge rainbow arced over the valley.

Here, the air is clear and clean. Sunlight cuts through with no impediment. Clouds move with speed and power, and storms push along quickly, muscled and tough.

The town is lovely, all adobe, richly colored, warm, inviting. There are shops, yes, but mostly there are galleries, one after another after another. And I can understand why people come here to paint. I just can't understand why they're not all outside, painting in this clean, clear light.