Death Valley gets about 2 inches of rain a year. Just my luck, they got a fair percentage of that 2 inches on Friday night with a soft rain that began about 8 pm and lasted until the next morning.

From my first trip there, I remember the skies being a deep but empty blue. On Friday, with the storm front blowing through, the skies were full, competing with the mountains to show the most spectacular scenery. Storms in the desert are otherworldly. Water makes the desert a different place, with dampness on the wind, the smell of creosote and wet earth, and the sound of rain like an unexpected but most welcome visitor.

The morning after the rain, clouds hugged the peaks around us.

They slid right down to the valley floor, wrapping the smaller hills in damp blankets.

Great banks of moisture left reluctantly in the morning sun.

And climbed high into the desert air.

Eventually the valley pushed them back, and went on with its dry manner.

And then, in another change of desert heart, a sandstorm clouded the valley floor and made the dunes shimmer and glint like Antarctic ice.