When it rains in Tucson, people are able to take an unusually carefree attitude towards it. Although the storm is dramatic, and the amount of water means that the streets turn to rivers, everyone knows that it will be over in a few hours and the heat will return (and indeed, that’s why drain provision is so paltry).

In other words, despite the arresting thunderclaps, the weather is not threatening. By contrast, when there is a storm in Britain, one feels a faint primordial fear that one won’t be able to find shelter after the storm, in the cold and sodden woods and fields. Here, that threat just isn’t present. I think that’s what makes us feel so free to move around in the rain.

I rode my bike back from the gym in my $5 plastic shoes. The rain hitting my body was cold, but the water splashing up my legs and feet was warm thanks of the surface of the road—except for one area where the road was steep enough that the running water had already taken away all lingering heat.