Rain is rare in Arizona, but I lucked into some while I was visiting my father and stepmother in Tubac. A big, dark storm rolled in, with wind that tossed the palm trees, and rain that pelted on the dust and kicked up that summer scent before drenching the area.
Then, the sun slipped below the black clouds and lighted on a field of golden grass, and touched the outlines of the mountains in the distance, and the storm muscled off to the east.
Here in New England, rain and snow become a background. They become the personality of the place, for weeks and sometimes months on end. Out west, weather seems typically more momentary - a flash of thunder, a knot of storm, and then the day is sunny once again.
I think people's personalities mirror the weather, more than most of us acknowledge.