Content on the Mojave Desert

Content on the Mojave Desert

A spell of spring weather, in between wintry winds and El Nino rain, brought us out to swing on on the patio, watching the sunset fade, the stars come out,  and planes from LAX blinking their way perhaps to Houston.

We swing gently, lean together for warmth because we aren’t wearing sweaters, and point out to each other those stationary or passing points of light.  This is the ultimate of content.Sunset on the Mojave Desert

I remember similar contentments:  Lying prone on warm sand, sorting sand through my fingers for shells barely a quarter inch long (I have a small jar of those still); ducking under sea saltwater and releasing breath slowly to watch bubbles rise to the surface above my face; perching on a stone wall while the mowing machine cuts wide swaths of hay in decreasing rectangles around Cousin Mabel’s hay field—or, when the horse-drawn rake was replaced with a motorized and noisy hay baler, the bales dropping off one by one.

Been Here? Done That? Tell Me About It!