Clouds fall over the mountains onto the desert as if they were a tidal wave in slow motion. Rather than crash on the sand, pieces tear themselves away rising to the sky to make a silent escape.
I first went to the desert to experience what I thought would be sensory deprivation–after all, there was nothing there. It wasn’t like that though. I saw the wild geology, plants of all different kinds, animals fitting every niche, and human history, then even further back in time to the people without names. The closer I looked, the more I saw, and it all connected. These experiences filled my senses; to see the subdued pastels, to hear the cooing mourning doves, to smell the dust and creosote, to feel the rocky earth, and to even taste the gritty wax the dry heat of the desert left thick on my lips. Blazing days, frozen nights, campfires cooking up damned strong coffee. Red sunrises, hallowed and silent sunsets.