realreally

You sit in the desert at night. Just as dusk is fading away, not too far our of town on a crop of rocks that stick up from a sea of cacti and creosote. And, as you do, you catch the rumble of trucks on the small highway as they roar down the state road to avoid the weigh station on the interstate. The light is just enough to make out the tops of an owl’s wing as he wakes to look for breakfast. And if it’s Summer in scorched Arizona you can catch a bit of crazy rain in July Monsoon as it comes up from Mexico. It rolls over land and weeps on the desert in a flood. Literally. Arroyos and suddenly muddy animal paths get full. It never lasts for long and as it passes by headed to Phoenix the desert turns green or seems to in the dark. The smells – long baked away suddenly come back with a fury to attack your nose forcing you to acknowledge the transformation. Saguaro blooms turn to fruit in the darkness as the stars peek through the muggy clouds breaking apart to meander.