Every Friday I dig into the archives and dust off an old post. If you haven’t read it, it’s new to you!
…there I was a couple of weeks ago on the outskirts of Phoenix, a venti cup of house blend in one hand and iPhone camera in the other, standing in the desert waiting on Mr. Sun to come over the horizon. (Never mind the fact that the “desert” was just a 12 minute drive from my hotel; my host told me that it was officially the desert, so that’s what I’m sticking with.) The saguaro cacti stood tall against the fleeting night sky, a band of coyotes yammered in the distance. I wrapped my jacket a little tighter and clutched my coffee a little firmer as I waited…waited…waited…
The sky turned from black to gray to pink to orange. Birds turned up the volume on their symphony and the night’s chill gave way to morning’s warmth. The moon held its own on the other side of the horizon, gradually yielding to his daytime counterpart.
And then…the sun. My wide-eyed wonder turned to a squint as the brilliance spilled over the edge of the earth and stretched out across the rough terrain of the desert. Shadows began to stretch out low and long behind me and behind the surrounding flora.