Part of me feels like the desert doesn't need an explanation. It simply is the desert, with all its obvious questions. Fields of hot water. Lakes of salt. Knolls of wild horses.
Hills of wheeler shale that make you feel like you have stumbled across the aftermath of a mad tea party. Trees that talk in the wind. It is impossible not to love here.
To walk the desert is to walk across time.
No comments:
Post a Comment