Got up. Got outa bed. Said heck with the comb across my head.
Bundled up and went outside,
Birds chirped and I went into a dream.
It was barely sunrise, overcast, the air thick with moisture and the scent of wet desert ground. I’m the only human moving around outside. Up on top of the hill at the base of Maverick Mountain I went. Strolled around for nearly two hours; taking shots, gazing around, watching the human world wake and crawl in the snow, smiling at the pair of crows with whom I usually have morning conversations. Caught site of the top of Tule Mnt. underneath thick white clouds that contrasted against the gray sky. It was the only mountain in the National Park I would see all day. The Chisos and Christmas Mnts remained curtained in clouds. Most of the plant life was blanketed with snow.
The mesa where I strolled through the snow affords a vista west towards Terlingua Ghost Town, Reed Plateau, overlooking a section of Hwy 118 and Rough Run Draw. North are Study Butte with Willow and Bee Mnts beyond. And the Study Butte cemetery below.
Later, I went to El Punto north of the Ghost Town, where there was at least 4 inches of snow, still cold. Went for a hike anyway. Followed coyote tracks, no javalina tracks, and are these rabbit or rat? The road back was a mess. Reminded me of mud season in Maine, except this is slick as snot. Melting snow is worse than a rain in silty sand. We slid here and there, and side to side. In 4-wheel drive. After a big storm in Maine, I just waited for the roads to be plowed, which sometimes took a day or more. No problem; go ski, snowshoe, read, knit socks, talk to the mink, make snow angels. It’s all good.
I plan to adopt the same when I am permanently living off pavement. Go for a hike, read, knit a hat, take naps, write, talk to the coyotes, sit and chat with the Grandfather rocks. They can tell many stories.
Life goes on. Even in the snow, all desert life are survivors.