The scent is in the air that we had yesterday morning as well. It had "rained" a couple of what's called in Arizona "a six inch rain" in the night. That's when you have one decent sized drop... every six inches.
I savor the scent of the desert after such a rain or just about any rain. It releases a perfume unlike anywhere else. The mountains have their pine scented tang... the sea its own personality...
To me, the rain freshened desert is fresh, and clean and sweet. Somehow the freshened fragrances of Arizona sand, rocks, cactus and Paloverde floating on the sun bleached desert breeze combines into an intoxicating brew that slows the pulse.
If I could put it in a bottle I'd have a masterpiece.
|* Arizona Morning *|
We had another six incher in this camp sitting around a campfire of mesquite and paloverde last night shortly before bed.
Looking up at a partly overcast sky in the widely scattered drops with the moon peaking out of the clouds and Jupiter shining brightly... a Coyote yipped a few hundred yards out in the dark.
Whether I was a 21st century Cowboy Biker camped on the desert... or an 17th Century Apache sitting by that fire... the desert cared little...
If you cropped out the reflection of the fire on the walls of the rigs... and only took in the moon, the stars... the shapes of the mesquites behind camp flickering in the firelight... and the Coyote singing in the distance... I don't know or care either.
Back into the Quiet