A number of my friends love the desert. They love the
skies that pull you into infinity, like the ocean. They
love the silence, and how, if you listen long enough,
the pulse of the desert begins to sound like the noise
your finger makes when you rub it around the rim of a
crystal glass. They love the scary beauty-snakes,
lizards, scorpions, the kestrels and hawks. They love
the mosaics of water washed pebbles on the desert floor,
small rocks that cast huge shadows, a shoot of vegetation
here, a wildflower there.
from: Plan B
by: Anne Lamott
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