You either love the desert or hate it.
I stand in the love camp.
In fact, I’m probably the fan club leader of the camp.
To be perfectly on honest, on paper the desert doesn’t boast a strong resume.
Hotter then hell, drier than dry (aka wrinkles), creepy looking critters that could kill you with their nibble and plants that say,
“Don’t you even dare think of touching me.”
None the less, I’m still in love it.
I’ve never seen more unique and interesting plants ANYWHERE, EVER.
Plus, the monsoon season is the most spectacular display of mother nature’s fury.
The sweet smell of the desert after a rain is the BEST smell on earth (only second to the smell of a newborn baby).
Maybe it’s just that it’s so different from anywhere else on earth that fascinates me…I don’t know?
I guess it’s one of the feelings that you can’t quite put in to words but when you feel it, you know you’re home.
We took a trip to Arizona this past weekend.
On our trip I had wanted to take some arty-fartsy desert scene pics to possibly frame.
However, the Mr. forgot to grab the camera bag that was in the “pack pile” by the door.
The drive across the desert included a loud 30 minute conversation which was followed by an hour of pouting in silence.
In return, the Mr. didn’t give any guff when I asked him to pull over a dozen times on the highway when I spotted something camera (phone) worthy.
I’ll admit the pics turned out pretty darn good for being camera phone pics.
I crawled under 4 barbed wire fences and trudged through some pretty narly tumble weed fields to find the perfect desert foliage.
I even got a honk from a semi-truck driver. I couldn’t tell if it was a “You’re hot!” sort of honk or a “Get off the highway!” sort of honk?
Call me a “desert rat”…I take it as a compliment.
Where’s your paradise?