Desert Blue

I was driving through the desert the other night. I purposefully drove through the desert instead of driving the highway because I like the loneliness of the road, and I was hoping maybe I would get lucky and see an animal beyond the roadkill I always see on the highways. The desert always makes me feel wild, especially when there's a full moon. The way it makes me feel is blue. Not blue as in sad, but blue as in the luminescent color that shines down at night. It is a lycanthropic sort of blue that courses through my veins and paints me, an erotic sort of blue that teases the moon in howls and laughs and yips and dares it to dance down the sky. I feel I could join that night blue desert. I am blue with my coyote lovers and quiet with the indigo mule deer. The ancient starry rattlesnakes and I, we taste the air with gulping tongues and we graceful roadrunners court one another in an ancient moonlighted tango. I am blue with life, glowing with it.

I saw no animals the other night although I've seen many before, but I felt their presence, felt their joy for life. I am thankful for it.