A light rain falls as I lay in the hammock reading about desert big horn sheep. I think of cleansing, and the need for our world to be washed of its warring ways. A new beginning is dreamed of, maybe a day of peaceful rain falling all over our shared planet. A washing.

A baptism. Newness.

Looking across the small yard, drops of water fall from the oranges hanging in the tree. In the morning, I will squeeze some of them with my hands and drink their juice during breakfast with my bride.


Big horn sheep find water in the desert, but can go months without a drink. This weekend I will go and seek them, hoping to gain a glimpse into a set of wild eyes. I look forward to a walk in the desert through cholla, ocotillo, and barrel cactus for a few hours to celebrate the solstice.


independent writer

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