I was about seven and I remember the heat. It was a big shock after Alaska. We moved into a lovely house but I didn't appreciate it. My brothers were excited about being back near their old home, they even spoke the language. I didn't and to me it sounded like a garble that I would never understand.
I can recall thinking that I was going to hate it. That it wasn't nearly as nice as Oklahoma or Alaska or even the North Sea, that I'd only seen once ran though my mind the entire time we were unpacking my room. I wasn't even appreciating the great view out my window, but then an amazing thing happened. I was sitting in a chair by that very window when I realized the wall I'd been pouting at, was going from cream colored to an odd pink.
I turned and looked outside. I don't think that given a thousand years I'd ever be able to describe the way that the desert looks at sunset. I've heard it said that it's on fire or blood red.
It's far more than that. There's red in abundance, but also lemon, and pinks, and the palest purples imaginable. It is beyond anything I have ever seen.
No artist could ever capture it. Not even a photographer because each day it's just a bit different and each moment it's constantly changing.
