Desert Blooms

Desert Blooms

The desert was like a vast dry ocean. Shallow rippling ridges shadowed by the lowering sun. The only coolness, if one could call it that, was on the porch. The only greenery were the succulents and cactus strewn across the desert and nestled up against the house. I was waiting for Emily to arrive. In the distance I thought I could see the kick up of her dusty old Land Rover. She had been to town all day for meetings and farm business and groceries. We had been married for over 20 years and my heart still seemed to flutter when I knew I’d see her soon. As a young boy, I had been too shy to say much to her. My mates hadn’t had the same problem with the girls they wanted to date. As we grew, our paths separated, our lives took different paths. Every now and then we met by chance. With a bit of maturity came the perspective that if I didn’t get over my boyhood shyness I’d better do something, so I finally asked her out. Slowly our lives took on a comfortable rhythm and we decided to marry. Emily moved to my farm out in the no man’s land of the desert. This was where our interests really came together. Emily had always been concerned about the environment and I had learned about hydroponic farming on the deserts. We found ourselves in long involved conversations, until we ran out of words and just walked quietly through this land that so many had turned their backs on. So it became our sanctuary. An errant breeze stirred the sheer white curtains on the open windows behind me. I had wine and glasses chilled. Our supper table was set with our old chipped crockery, salad was cooling in the fridge. Emily pulled up and jumped out looking as lovely as ever, at least in my eyes. “Oh, Norman darling. I don’t look lovely at all. I’ve been meeting-ed till I am exhausted, my clothes are a mess, my hair is stringy - but I accept your complement. I’m just glad to see you - I could hardly wait. Keeping my foot off the gas was almost more than I could  do.” I unloaded the groceries and put them away while Emily set our supper out. The moon rose as the night air cooled and was still.

“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen and 

waste its sweetness on the desert air.”

~ Paul Hoffman, The Last Four Things

Author's note: Edited February 14, 2024