I love the desert. I love the vast open space and that fixes my internal gaze and stills my wandering mind.
I find expansion in the stones and the dirt. The colors in the rocks and the tiny bursts of plants are vibrant. The plants themselves seem to beat all odds just to come through the rugged ground. The trees twist and turn against the wind, seeking the sun.
Nature so impresses me, I never tire of her announcements to live.
The last time I visited the desert I discovered places where the bones and plants from the Jurassic period were left imbedded in stone to view and to allow my imagination to wander back millions of years. I could almost feel the breath of sauropods on my neck and feel the earth tremble beneath their feet. I wonder if we are making our way toward a vast extinction again.
Who will miss us? Who might just dig us up and place us in museums as a creature of the past?
So, as my inner gaze quiets it begins to burn back in time. I search for meaning in the madness we humans have come to witness as everyday life.
I love the desert
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