Word of the day: Arid. ~ No Sweat

10620067_10202936984120900_342585705693221637_oArches Utah, Edit and Original photo by, KAMoore

The early morning air was dry and biting.
Frost seeking to form, denied by the waterless atmosphere.
The desert spoke without moisture to sooth its grating voice.
It’s allure found in the silent petrified semblance bestowed on all things.
Even the living motionless, waiting, watching; Lizards, Snakes, Spiders, and Scorpions.
The fur covered beasts tucked away in the cracks and crevices enjoying their partners heat.
They all wait for the rising sun to reach it’s warming fingers over the distant mountains.
The rays touch teasing the blood to flow and bring motion to stilled creatures.

The wildflowers fading.
The monsoons sung.
The arid lands spread out seemingly endless to all points on the compass.
Lands that lay primarily quiet in wait, with sporadic dirt devil whispers and angry gales of impatience. In wait of the distant storms to bring fresh flowers, a deluge of waters  and simultaneous eruption of green sprouts from the formerly charred and cracked earth.
Once again calm with practiced restraint.
The season of dry is long, make no mistake.




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