The Laurel Crowned Princess-Chapter 1, 'The Desert'
Chapter 1: The Desert
In at least one way the desert is similar to the beach.
Like the wind that blows waves of water towards the coastline, so does the wind blow sand across the desert.
Certainly the water and the sand share a unique relationship.
With the beach you get the best of both worlds, you get the sand and the water between your toes, the heat, and the wind. You also get the sound of the waves crashing into the beach.
If the ocean is the tension, the sandy dune is its release.
In the desert, one is surrounded by total release.
The desert is usually considered a dry desolate place, and it's often connected in the mind with being in a place that one doesn't want to be.
To choose to perceive of the desert in that context conjures images of loneliness, of desolation, even .
To the one who chooses to go to the desert with open eyes, numerous gifts await. Gone are most man-made noises-save your own breathing, your own heartbeat and your own footprints in the sand.
Soothing wind blows the sands across the dunes, kicking up sand dust along the way. The sun teases with a distant mirage. Unusual plants grow in a seperate world than ours. The yucca, the cactus, each one unique.
An ever changing canvas, the desert is beautiful and alive with life. One must become quiet to observe its beauty.
However quiet it is, the desert tells you everything about itself. Roadrunner tracks disappear into the infinite rise and fall of the dunes. An occasional arrowhead or broken clay pot reveals evidence of prior visitors. More careful inspection may reveal a lizard.
The desert in the evening is even more serene-one might imagine that God may have, in the cool night air, taken the curves of the dunes to fashion the first woman, perhaps its moonlight for her ivory coat.
And like the sun rising from the horizon, she seemed to come from the sand.
The shoulder length -haired 5'6" quiet beauty was simply wearing a pink shirt, acid washed blue jeans and tennis shoes. Her hauntingly beautiful green eyes seemed to look right into your very soul, but they didn't because when she smiled she seemed to already know.
Accompanying her was a strange man of whom one could never make the request 'don't get short with me'. He was dressed in yellow and black attire that resembled a court jester's costume, complete with matching hat and boots, and he talked with mannerisms as like unto a bad Danny Devito impersonation.
In his right hand he carried a sword, in his left a very tall pedestal, seemingly impossible for him to carry, but carry it he did.
He followed her everywhere she went, seemingly to her dismay.
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