During the Arizona monsoon, each evening is blessed with the possibility of dust, rain, and thunderstorms—and sometimes localized weather anomalies, called microbursts.

Last night my home experienced such an incident.

Officially, the Phoenix weather station, 30 miles away, reported 0.15 inches of precipitation along with wind speeds of 39 mph, gusting to 52. My local weather hit a bit harder than that.

At 5:00 pm, heavy winds and rain pummeled my house. The lights went out. Since the local water company needs electricity to maintain pressure in the pipes, this service stopped, too.

The storm lasted only twenty minutes, but it was awful–yanking large limbs from more than a dozen of the trees on my 1.5 acre property. Fast-flowing water spilled over a normally dry creek bed, gouging out the shallow roots of a nearby tree. With its anchor loosened, the victim didn’t stand a chance against the strong bursts of air that shoved it to the ground.

When I go outside this morning, branches scatter the still-wet sand–everywhere.

 

 

 

The settee rests on its side, ten feet away from its normal position.

 

 

 

 

The trash can hides beneath dropped limbs. I hear the rumble of the garbage truck running its routine schedule in the neighborhood, reminding me that today is collection day.

 

My heirloom garden is just as ravaged. The cute little windmill lies sad on the ground.

 

 

 

The pea fence rests beside its snapped wooden supports.

 

 

 

 

Thank goodness the Magical Mesquite Tree is all right! The limb beneath it is not its own but belongs to a nearby Palo Verde.

Did my garden gnome protect this treasure?

“Where are you, Gnome? Oh mygosh, you’re under the branches!”