Desert Song

    As you take your first step outside of the air conditioned car that brought you home, you are greeted with a swift sucker punch of a heat wave that nearly knocks the wind out of you; a bittersweet homecoming.  Your first few breaths are shallow as you attempt to inhale what may as well be fragments of the sun itself.  After the initial blow you let your timid eyes open up more than a squint and attempt to brave the valley's sunlight.  As your eyes adjust you take in your surroundings; just hours ago you were surrounded by birds of paradise, comforting sand, and the sound of waves crashing off the coast of California.  It is as if you have traveled to an entirely different world: an eerie land of isolation.  You shuffle your feet through a quicksand-like dirt and choke on the resulting granules that consume your lungs: nature's chokehold.  The sun's rays shove you from behind, forcing you to keep moving your feet forward.  Your legs are now an ash white up to your knees as they are entirely covered with pieces of the earth.  Taking closer notice of the ground beneath your feet, you literally feel through the desert's deception; only a few inches below the baby powder sand is an ominous layer of intransigent rock.  Trekking onward, you become more aware of the deafening silence that envelops the valley.  All that is to be heard are distant hums of the occasional passing car: none of which seem to be stopping anywhere near here.  It seems as if the only signs of civilization are the few ranch homes that are sporadically placed across the desert, each separated by a few acres.  However, by examining the south side mountains you are able to trace the distant, yet threatening shadows of a city strip founded on corruption; though a good twenty miles away, its suburbs seem to be moving in closer than comfort would allow.  You begin to accept, even embrace what this town has to offer and breathe in deeply a fire that fills you up with excitement; the heat has proved itself a comforting companion. 

    With your newfound awakening you are able to appreciate these city outskirts for what they truly are: a brief moment of calm waters that harbor nature's best kept secrets.  You stare up into the still ocean and focus on the jagged sky line coast that breaks up the blues, purples, oranges, and pinks.  A bit of sea foam flows over the northern mountains, mercifully allowing some of the sun's beams to shine through to even the depths of the valley; the rays paint a picture on the ocean floor.  A jackrabbit jets across the sand and takes refuge behind a small, but green, plant.  What initially seemed to be lifeless has transformed without warning.  As the mountains engulf the sleep-deprived sun and the ocean becomes alive with wild waves of color your ears pick up on a beautiful desert song.  At first it is quiet, a single singer.  However the lone coyote is soon joined by an entire choir.  Their sweet howling soars through the valley's atmosphere, calling to wake the once dormant desert.  Almost at once the sky joins in as its sea foam slowly covers the brightest stars you've ever witnessed; the stars you can only see when far removed from city lights.  The clouds build up and bring on a thundering crescendo that explodes with cooling pieces of the sky itself: rain.  You quickly become soaked as the storm picks up and life flows down from the clouds.  The waves violently crash against the mountains as a neon purple hand grazes the ground. 

    Snapping out of a daydream you let the memories of what your home once was drift back into the ocean.  You try to comfort yourself by the mere fact that you have not moved from your beloved desert home; your location on the map has not changed.  Your reminiscent thoughts are of this very house only five years prior to now.  Despite these truths, you step outside your front door to an entirely different scene.  While the air is still overwhelmingly hot, the old band no longer plays here.  The obnoxious banter of speeding, honking cars from the new freeway that cuts directly behind your backyard drowns your ears instead.  Apparently the city took a liking to your home and decided to move in; you cannot help but hear the neighbors complain about the smell of horses, though they knew very well that their perfect little suburban home was built on horse property.  The baby powder dirt is nowhere to be seen as it is covered by cram-packed cookie cutter "homes,"  four to an acre, each house a mirror image of the one next to it: entirely lacking in personality, their white stucco shells provide a protective boundary for the bland families hiding within.  Blindly looking for the horizon, you can barely focus on the points where the sky meets the mountains.  However, you can take a gander at an impeding Costco, not one, not two, but three Starbucks, a Walmart, and of course your typical outdoor upscale shopping mall.  Though the sun is setting, the stars are nowhere to be found these days.  In their place shines a cheap imitation; three rotating beams, originating from a new car dealership, turn the clouds a poisonous shade of yellow.  In every direction you look, society's toxins flow through the former desert,  filling the valley to its brim.  You stop, focus, and make every effort you can to hear the coyotes' soothing voices.  Perhaps if you stay up a bit later;  you are very hopeful tonight.  1:47 a.m., 1:48 a.m., 1:49 a.m.  You count every single second of every minute yet all that fills your ears are the sleepless noises of a city that has demolished any form of true life it once had.  5:13 a.m.  The sun will be waking up soon, and you did not hear a single song all night.  Your last bit of hope is ripped away from you by the undertow of a recklessly growing city.  The life of the desert has been driven away by communities of suburban houses, arrogant city-goers, and the construction of a deadly consumer driven wasteland.  It hits you: your view of the hidden mountains is seen through tears at the realization that the desert's choir will never return, and it absolutely breaks your heart.

Author's Note

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

Not much can be added. You have written an extremely
discriptive story.

I found myself choking on the dust , as you discribe it, cringing
from the blazing sun. You have painted a picture with the
reader following along in your footsteps.

Excellent ! Brilliantly done in a professional manner.

The only suggestion that may make it a little easier reading:
I would break the long paragraphs into small portions and
separate them by two or three spaces, each.

Very nice writing----I look forward to the next piece.

Thank you !

---- Eagle Cruagh

[M. Amphet Salt]

This piece is infectual with its calamity of irony and metaphor. I love the first lines as there so poetic, but the rest of the piece totally great. Great emotion.