Handley_Page
Draco interdum Vincit
- Joined
- Aug 18, 2007
- Posts
- 78,287
I spent a full day outside my cactus-garden cinderblock shack in 29 Palms, across from the HQ of Joshua Tree National Monument (then).
It began in the velvet black of a starry moonless night. The desert's bare, ragged Pinto Mountains a couple miles south slowly became visibly violet. Cool zephyrs zephed. Creatures crawled and cried, The sky brightened slightly, then more. Another slug of coffee with cheap tequila.
My sunrise roadrunner zooms across my shack. The sky, brighter and brighter. Animal sounds diminish; traffic picks up, mostly on the highway a mile north toward the vast USMC base. Some artillery fire in the distance.
Midday, the Pintos glare brightly white under the unrelenting sun. Dead air, not as hot as it could be, but incentive to remain under shade. Some birds. Some jets. Some creature(s) moving in the open desert, I can't quite tell what. More Mexican coffee.
The sun sinks into Los Angeles and evening attacks the desert. More birds, breezes, creature noises. The Pintos have cooled from white to gray to reddish-bluish to darker, and back to ominous shadows on the too-close horizon. Then the blackness of night returns, washed by the Milky Way. Time to crawl in.
Who says a day on the desert is boring? I didn't even have to hike.
You lucky blighter.
Although I have had similar experiences in places like the New Forest.
I have mentioned this before.
Traveling, I stopped at a suburban Trader Joes store for meager supplies. A tour bus pulled into the parking lot just in front of the store. A scad (that's a score or three) of Japanese-looking guys, well but casually dressed, ages 20s through 40s, spewed into the store, waving varied cameras, photographing everything (but not each other so much). This lasted about three minutes. Then they surged back onto the bus, which sped away.
I have zero fucking explanations.
Ah; if it's Tuesday, it must be Austria [or similar]
(a standing joke)

