i woke early when the low sun cast an orange beam of light over the dirt roads and hills.
it was cooler this morning, the air clear like glass.
i made my way to the park so i could walk in the morning shadows.
i heard no one. i saw no one. i passed no one.
the boulders pile on top of each other. they split and crack. leave spaces for thin slices of sky to be seen.
you can walk among them.
there are lots of rock climbers here. lithe young people with good knees and strong arms who scramble up the stacks.
after my morning jaunt i find some old place for breakfast.
i take my journal to write & drink coffee after i eat. yesterday a man next to me took all of the jelly packs out of the mason jar and stuffed them into his fatigue pockets. he looked over at me to see if i noticed. i kept jotting down details. waiting for the day i am called as a witness.
“what day was that again?” i’ll ask as i rifle through my books.
i will never report the jelly thief though. never!
today an elderly woman in the booth in front of me said, “i’m learning about these things i never knew about!”
i jotted it down.
i come home to my desert outpost and read. magazines, books, park guides, maps.
also i make rounds on the property. inspections and such. admiring the lovely desert garden all around.
sit in the glider and stare out at the hills.
yesterday evening a coyote trotted past on a nearby hill. i said something, but he didn’t answer.
i like spotting the big desert jackrabbits and smaller cottontails.
the desert is singing to me.
i am listening.