Desert

The desert is a harsh wasteland braved by few and loved by less. Have beauty held close if you look. The whistling breeze of the wind across the cold night air. When snakes burrow down after a nap in the sun and the crickets start their symphony. This is night When the earth is touched by the sun it's harsh and unrelenting. To toil in the sun is to bask in the harshest of seas. Crashing waves of heat that spray sand up mountain sides. This day To experience one is a tale but to live in both is a beautiful story. Juniper trees short in stature quaint in silence. Sagebrush floral in smell with a faint aroma of water long gone. Cactus with prickly thorns protecting the delicate flowers that are seen by few but many. The sky at dusk a purples hue pink painted over distant clouds embracing dusks orange glow. The desert is harsh to those unwilling to listen to a beautiful story.