The Theft of the Wind

I love the desert. It does take some adjusting after spending most of my years in places with trees and water. Out here, along with the sun, the wind steals all moisture from the land and everything that lives on it. Native plants must be a hardy breed with a thick protective layer to contain its juices and a strong stem to resist bending to the ground.  The small amounts of rain must be quickly sucked into the plants before the wind has a chance to pull it back from the quickly drying sand.  There is rarely any left for the animals, many of whom spend their entire lives without ever drinking water.  All of their moisture comes from the plants and seeds they eat. Horses and cattle on the dry, wind-swept ranches must be given water daily to survive. There are no open tanks of water as you see in other places for the wind quickly steals any puddle of water. 

  In the wide sky, rain clouds can be seen for many miles.  The rain can be seen falling for thousands of feet heading for the ground, but here, too, the wind steals.  For the black streams of rain heading for the ground often get lighter and lighter as they fall until the winds have stolen all but a few drops which fall with a plop on the dusty sand.  The few drops soon stop though the rain can be seen falling from the clouds all around before it, too, is stolen by the wind.

I never thought I’d miss rain, but I never dreamed I’d live somewhere with so little of it.