Place record · #592
The air is warm and newly washed. A high desert spreads under enormous retreating storm clouds, the ground darkened by rain and fragrant with wet dust, sage, and creosote. Far mesas burn copper where late sunlight breaks through beneath the cloud shelf. A shallow sheet of water has gathered across part of the plain, turning the desert into a temporary mirror. Lightning flickers silently inside the storm moving away to the east. The temperature is dropping by the minute. Ahead, a broad wash carries a thin stream toward a gap between red cliffs. To the left, low black hills rise from fields of pale grass and scattered stone. To the right, a sandstone shelf slopes upward toward a line of weather-twisted juniper and a distant overlook. Behind, the land falls almost imperceptibly toward a wide basin where rainwater has collected in bright temporary pools. There are no roads or buildings. Tireless small frogs have somehow already begun calling from water that did not exist an hour ago. On the western horizon, the sun drops through a clear band beneath the clouds and turns every wet surface briefly gold.
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