Flying Sand and Swirling Dust

These are the opening paragraphs of a story I’d like to write based upon the years I taught in a small, border town in the Chihuahuan Desert.  Perhaps I could create a series of short stories or a novella based upon my life in the desert. 

 

FLYING SAND AND SWIRLING DUST by Sara Etgen-Baker

I glanced in the side view mirror of the U-Haul truck.  One mile forward, one more, and then another.  With each mile forward everything familiar was slipping further and further away.  Lush, tree-covered  green hills slowly gave way to parched, bland land covered in sage brush and low-lying mesquite trees.  By late afternoon there was absolutely nothing in front of me except miles of Chihuahan Desert.  Flat was the land—yellow, ochre, and brown. 

By dusk, a gnawing wind blew tumbleweeds across the interstate.  Just this side of the border, the sun was setting through the yellow, howling wind. “Time for dinner,” my husband said.  So, we exited the interstate and stopped to eat in an old trailer converted to a diner.  Once inside, I heard the sand patter like rain against the trailer’s metal walls and brush across the windowpanes. A fine silt accumulated beneath the door and on the window ledge. I breathed in and choked; the desert tasted brown and bitter on my tongue. 

I looked out the window; the only thing between the diner and the interstate was a battered barrel cactus, a couple of yucca plants, a few cinder block houses, and a ramshackle motel aptly named The Desert View Motel.  Eighteen-wheelers roared past the diner leaving clouds of dust in the dry desert air.  The hot wind carried the dust across the parking lot of the diner and deeper into town where all the dirt roads seemed to lead nowhere in particular.  I’d given anything for a glimpse of a single blade of grass.

“You’re not from around here, are you, honey?”The waitress asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“I can always recognize newcomers to the desert.  The emptiness and harshness are shocking at first.”   The waitress handed me a menu.  “But you’ll get used to life here in the desert.  It’s free of confusion.  It is brutally honest and harsh.  But it’s also kind and fragile.  Give it a chance.”

I stared out the window.  Dust and sand were everywhere.  I wondered how I’d ever flourish here.