November Desert

Search carefully and you may find fossils, of shells of clams and snails where once shallow seas covered all. Though now only sand cushions the cautious footfalls of any lone adventurer. And small creatures skitter about midst brambles and burs like beetles and stone-colored lizards. While some have called this land ugly, barren God- forsaken fit for but thorns or for bandits; Mesquite smoke wafts skyward from my cooking fire and my brindle pup, Kokopelli plays with an old mayonnaise jar. 9 days are left till Thanksgiving though the weather's unusual balmy and mild a few cabbage butterflies still flit among blue and red flowers. And somewhere I know, there's Facebook with photos of smiling faces and friends who plan Christmas shopping- get-togethers. Somewhere lovers laugh, money is made, but here, chores mean survival- hauling water finding firewood. There's a subtle beauty not all can recognize... And my Belgian Malinois shakes flies from his fur he's the color of topaz, scorched amber, were he a horse, he'd be called sorrel, roan or perhaps dark palomino.