The mystic landscape is the desert. Where the indomitable spirit flourishes and the imperfect turns to dust. There is a lot of sand in the desert.
The endless sky gives refuge to the imposing sun and moon. Pagan rituals honor it for its greatness.
In the desert, animals hide under brush and atop cacti. The Saguaro cactus can withhold many gallons of water for extended periods of time. Ask the Code Talkers.
Much can be said about desert rain. Its fragrance surpasses the most expensive Parisian perfumes … The Creosote bush is the Chanel Nº 5 of the desert. The overwhelming feeling of joy one gets as the desert sky starts to cry, lash out, and scream.
All that is in the desert is hidden by what is not here. You must look past what isn’t to see what is.
In its empty skies you see the sun set. Through the bare basin you see magnificent mountains. Within the beige you see the green of plant life and pigments of flowers. Engulfed by its silence are the songs of sparrows, rhythms ofrabbits running, and balancing of your breath. As you look out to the desert, you see a reflection of yourself. As if you were looking into an elusive desert pond; seeing yourself looking back at you.
.uoy ta kcab gnikool flesrouy gniees;