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.
Nourish.
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.
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