July in the desert entails a few rituals: trying to stay cool, walking early with a neighbor, along the tailings, around Silver Hill, or just through town. Trying to be under cover before the sun peaks over the Cerbats. It also includes coffee at the porch where the locals gather and talk. This morning the talk was about impeachment. The people here, my friends and neighbors in a republican, weapons packing small town in rural, poor America have had it with the attitude and actions of their president. He should take note, because if small town begins to protest, then it is becoming a serious problem for him. Without cable or a satellite there are only four channels on TV here, one of them, thank you, PBS. The radio is about the same, according to the wind direction , I can or cannot receive NPR... We should do something the women on the porch agreed, yet they feel helpless as to what can be done. Any advise?
My return here also always leads to keeping to place livable and doing repairs. The harsh winter has shattered half of the plumbing; I have been to town four times for more parts. It is the gentle dance between me and the desert, it takes what I don't hold on to and I restore tiny spots for human use temporarily taking back. the desert is strong, but lets me get away with the slow repairs and repainting...
Clowns from Amsterdam
7 years ago