The Sun

Today while watching lizards race down the side of the house I started thinking about the sun. By ten o'clock today it had reached one hundred degrees. The sun and the heat, I don't consider them a lot. I suppose I just take them for granted because I'm used to them. I don't normally crave sunlight. It is something like oranges. I love oranges, and I enjoy them, but I don't think of them often. I see them on the tree out back quite often, and even when the tree blossoms and I can smell their flowers I don't think of oranges all the time. I only think of oranges in the winter, brilliant and dripping.

In Ireland I definitely noticed a lack of sun, I craved it. Like a lost moth, I fluttered around lamps and gravitated towards brightness. I bought daffodils because I loved the color yellow against the dark gray sky.

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.