From the bloggers at Box Canyon Blog.
We are boondocked on the banks of the wild and mighty Colorado River. You’d think that would be a good thing, right? But around here the Colorado has been tamed, diverted into tentacle-like canals that irrigate all those fruits and veggies that magically appear in supermarkets all across America. And then there is the dust storm, raging out Goldie’s Imax Windows, obliterating water, mountains, and mood.
My Arizona Mama said there’d be days like this. Lord knows how many desert dust storms she endured in a trailer. I remember a few; those “jalousie windows” are no match for when the wind blows across arid lands. It could have been all those dusty miles driven to and from Dad and Mom’s church on the Pima Indian Reservation’s that caused me to come down with “Valley Fever” when I was about 5 years old. Too weak to pedal my tricycle, as I remember.
You already know I’m a restless kind of guy, even on the best of days high in the mountains and surrounded by wildflowers. So it shouldn’t surprise you in the least that, given our Hardscrabble, dust in the wind, Lord-have-mercy boondock north of “YuMa’st Be Kiddin,” I’m a tad antsy to move on. The Weather Guessers are predicting 60, oh wait, now revised to 75 mph winds (thank you forward scout Chris) for Anza Borrego. So here we have sat, still sit, and will continue to sit till at least tuesday morning, waiting for this blast to show and blow itself through (insert finger drumroll on table here). I just hope Anza Borrego is worth this desolate camp.
To read the full story by Box Canyon Blog, click here.