Backwoods Babble

I saw a coyote today on the way to Las Vegas. While they are around and about, I have not seen as many of them as I used to. He was loping along across this open field and had he not been moving, I would have missed him. To me, the coyote is the symbol of all that is wild and good about this land. Most days I can't stand where I am and I just want to get in the car and leave, but then I would miss the coyotes, jack rabbits, cottontails and hawks of this country. In these wide open spaces, there is life and there is beauty, but you have to look so much harder for it than in other places. Most days, I feel stifled and trapped. These brown, muted colors all blend together in one big blob of a pastelly nightmare. This is not a land with which speaks easily to me. I miss the coastal green of the Northwest and the rough salty smell of the sea - it is what I dream of at night. This land is intriguing and I am learning to respect it. I don't know that I will ever love it, but I

It is evening and I am on the porch again. Best of all, it is raining. This is not the rain from my childhood... pounding down on the pavement and hitting your head hard enough to hurt, but it is steady and the desert is coming alive to greet it. There is something very special about rain in the desert. Maybe it is because we do not receive very much of it, I'm not sure. The land comes alive at the first drop of water. And nothing else smells quite like wet sagebrush - mild, sweet and magical. I snapped the shot above earlier today... it showed the whisper of rain and this evening we were happily able to enjoy the benefits. It is getting a little chilly here on the porch. I will be going in soon to enjoy the open window freshness of rain. In the morning, we will likely not be able to see any hint that it passed through.