Slow Desert Crawl

Awe of the desert will never leave me.

An alien landscape, that was my first thought

as looming shadows of giant Saguaros rose in the distance,

throwing up their arms in joy,

creams, greens and browns in contrasting shades,

both arid and fertile but the air so dry that it

requires drinking water, regularly.

The stars were alive while I drove my old Ford,

pulled from a Junk yard for thousands of miles.

decorated with sage and feathers of birds

I had collected, colourful, rare.

No one believing I had driven down “in that thing”.

“You’re braver than I thought”, an instant reply.

So engrossed in plant life I had missed picking up

any water since the last town, many miles behind now,

although a boot full of organic soda and root beer,

cooling in the back was sufficient to down my thirst

in soft carbonated bubbles as I drove through the night,

slowly along empty, deserted roads thick with trees,

flies, insects or through canyons with easy rock fall,

only elk, coyotes, deer, cottontails, coons, bobcats and

other things that crawled or moved in the deep dead

of night for sudden sporadic company,

as they wondered into the bright beams of my headlamps.

I would slip off the highway when it got too much

or I was tired and take some quiet, dirt ditchwater road,

filled with night life, rampant and all too easy to

be road kill. I had braved many things to get here and it

did not disappoint.

I was just following my nose when I made my way, not really

needing a map. I felt it was where I needed to go next.

My map was guided by compelling, changes in vegetation

and comfort in an unknown sense of place and time,

hard to be read but easier for the heart to manoeuvre.

There are certain plants that make me feel

at home and Saguaros are one which now, up close

I knew I would want to hug with all my might.

I felt content to be finally amongst friends...saguaros,

although hugging a giant cactus isn’t easy or

really recommended.

A flawless sky burned with a sun that reached into every

nook and cranny of this place, the ground was hot,

the air simmering as heat waves danced upwards,

even the shade was hot and dust whirled in your

eyes until it reached your being, everything

should sort of crinkle and die but it did not,

far from it, was teeming with life.

Later I watched as the sun, reluctant to fade away

was replaced by the milky way, cut through

with the shapes of canyons that had only moments ago

been drenched in the burning fires of sunset,

within minutes life had passed on.

No matter where I travel or stay still

the heat of that sun lingers in the backs

of buildings or in quiet moments when thinking,

as if coyotes and red hawks can call from a distance.

I feel the quiet of arroyos and sharp thorns of cacti

beneath my feet until I am left with a parched,

dry taste in the back of the mouth, that needs watering.

Life had not been hospitable until hitting the desert road,

slowly as if I had many miles to go and I still feel the

heat of sand reflected back into space, burning in memory,

even as you close your eyes, cannot forget,

scorpions, tarantulas and owls that make their nests

under stones or expanding cacti, or lizards and road runners

making a quick escape.

Although more recently a trail of saguaros, acacias, mesquites,

a thin promise of water growing increasingly weak,

as a border wall and immigration divides the desert until it’s

difficult for many to speak , about the efforts it took to get there.

As temperatures rise to 530C with microbial life in the

dead zone and body fat melting with the effort of just moving,

where air conditioning is more essential than breathing,

I move seamlessly away as the desert shrinks to growth,

reminding me succinctly of the insensitivity and desperation

of humans for more, here allowing Realty Companies

“to go where no man has gone before”,

into the wild desert, ready to be owned,

but the steadfastness of saguaros is a reminder of being

rooted and waiting years for just one seedling to grow.

And no matter what roads I have travelled since,

my mind is still alive with desert life until I can almost

smell it in the air....I think it smells like creosote!

To many I have met since, the desert holds no such love

or familiarity but I wonder seeking the desert road,

the one place I truly feel at home.