The honey bees were out especially late. But, the season was changing. Autumn was upon us and there was not much pollen left to be had. Fig trees, corn, barley, some sunflowers, cactus flowers, bermuda hay, cedar, mesquite and a little wild cannabis was all that was left blooming. The moon began to illuminate the darkness and the orange sand beneath my feet sparkled like glitter. Red mud, quartz, mica and magnesium caused a silver haze that looked like a tiny fireworks show as the moisture in the air reacted with the elements and minerals. It was going to rain. No clouds. Just rain. 

 

There was a bumper crop of corn. People were drying new ears from the current harvest to make corn meal and sitting on the porch shucking what was left over from last season. The scent of water with lye boiling in big pots ready to cook the freshly shucked dried corn from last season to make hominy to grind for grits, and then used to blanch pig carcasses to make the hide easy to remove in one piece and prepare the meat to be smoked. A pot of beans simmered with onions, peppers and cilantro and dried bacon, their moist steam co-mingling their herbal essence among the other passengers upon the dusty breeze - which was also punctuated by the occasional faint but unmistakable smell of bullshit joined the energy's crackling kinetic presence and carrying with it sounds of the laughter produced by playing children, teasing lovers, and men talking with their emotions tainted with beer; someone strumming a guitar, leaves rustling, a rooster crowing, tiny particles of dust that could be born of anything blow willingly with it's course. It was an elixir of excitement and renewal. I felt the wind curl around my body before carrying on it's way. The moisture's coolness intensified as it danced upon my skin as it streamed away.

 

Out of this starkness there was abundance to be had.

 

I breathed it in deeply.