Your humble correspondents are taking a short break from work (which is what cruising while being involved full time in the marine business represents) and heading north toward Yellowstone National Park after a short visit to Arizona. We are looking forward to a week of trees, critters who are either hungry, horney, or just unpleasant in demeanor, and cool weather.

A late monsoon has greeted us in Tucson.

And the nightly show has been spectacular. Whereas Hurricane Irene was a bit of a dud, the Sonoran Desert monsoon will tear down your power  poles with 75mph winds, break your windows with golf ball sized hail, and flush your car down raging washes should you be so impudent as to ignore the warning signs.

In the morning, when the monsoon  is gathering  its strength once again, the birds are in full song.

And the desert blooms anew, if only for a few short weeks.

The monsoon brings with it wonderful cloud formations.

And the clouds are lovely to look at from the ground. But if you are a power pilot, the downdrafts that will shortly issue from this miniature hurricane have risk written all over them. On the other hand, a glider driver will  carefully play the edges, keeping a wary eye on an exit route.

All the living things, flora and fauna, will enjoy the gift of water, however brief, which the monsoon brings to the desert.

If you are up early, the sunrises tend toward breathtaking.

Look in the other direction and the moon awaits inspection.

The inventory is a little down on the winged visitors at this time of year.

But the clean up crew  is still riding the thermals.

Of course computers await our attention. Having a pair of big monitors, a dual quad processor, and an unlimited chain of external hard drives has its advantages. And the speed  of the cable modem is amazing to behold after you have been tied to a mobile Internet system for months. On the other hand the view outside competes for our attention.

It feels strangely pleasant being back on land.

Post script:

After we had put this blog to bed a major aerial battle took place at the edge of what we could photograph.

Our old friend, Mr. Red Tail, took exception to the presence of a much larger turkey vulture.

The vulture wanted no part of this fight.

But hard as he might try, he could not shake his more maneuverable adversary.

This battle lasted less than a minute, and from a height of 3000 feet (900m) above the ground, these two dove, rolled, and s-curved their way to just above the cactus line.

We doubt the big guy will be back.