Cloudless Sky

Summer time in a desert is so disappointing; everything is so bare and dry. Sagebrush dots the hills occasionally, but they're mostly a vast amount of weeds just begging to catch on fire. When the hills burn, they burn.

Volcanic rocks from long ago lie exposed to the elements as reminders of a different time, reminders of a chaotic past full of raging volcanoes and tormenting storms.

If air could boil, the sun would certainly do so. It gets so bloody hot, and it makes living in an agricultural community miserable sometimes. Before work every morning, I try to predict the weather. I hope the sky will be full of those fluffy, white clouds I used to watch, but it's always just a cloudless sky; it's so hopeless and disappointing.