1 September 2007


Filed under: Ponderings,Writing

It was mid-summer, and hot…in the way only central Texas can be. I’ve experienced more than 140 degrees of air temperature in my ever increasing time on this lonely pebble in space, but nowhere is it hotter than central Texas in August. It’s not just hot…it’s a presence, like the hot is sitting with you, poking you softly as if to say ‘don’t forget, it’s hot’. There was wind, as there usually is in the greater Brazos river area, but it wasn’t cooling. Its purpose there merely to move what dust wasn’t saturated with the humidity in small clouds around the desolate road nearby and make that strange rushing sound through the tall grass that is so prevalent here, but can’t really be described to one who hasn’t heard it.

I was standing on a recently constructed porch to a trailer that was serving as a classroom looking out towards the east, into the sun and in the direction of San Antonio some 40 or so miles away. Standing there, waiting for some far flung person in that school district to come and let me in to get this done and get back to what they considered the big city, and what I consider a remote outpost of civilization (that may or may not contain a decent bookstore), my mind began to wander, as it frequently does.

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