Friday, July 31, 2015

This is OLD. Like, really old. Cade asked me to repost, so here you go. A blast from the past...

soooo...I started college yesterday! :x One of my classes is English 1010. First assignment, to write a narrative on an event that occurred in my favorite environment. whew - HARD, I tell ya! This is a posting of what I came up with. This storm actually occurred in September of 2008, while Cade & I were on our way back from a motorcycle rally in Colorado. :)

I duck my head to avoid the big drops of rain that have started protruding from the dark, ominous looking clouds that cover the whole sky above me, and stinging my already wind-beaten face. The nervousness inside of me screams to find shelter from the wretched storm, yet there is nowhere.
My surroundings are barren. For miles, desert sage, the infamous low-lying red rocks and cacti are all that can be seen. I cling to my husband as the wind proceeds to toss us about and he tries his hardest to maintain control, to remain on the road. We proceed on, into the eye of the storm. We have no other choice, it must be.
Soon the rain becomes thicker, harder, colder. I want to cry out from the sharpness of the stings, and maybe I do, but no one hears me over the low growl of the engine. As we carry on, the rain and the wind are so extreme that we can't see but a few feet in front of us, at one time even coming upon an area of the road that was being washed out even as we crossed.
I search the gray skies, looking for just an inkling of hope, just a smidgen of blue sky where we might get some repreive. I see it! It's not far! Nearly a half hour after beginning this war with mother nature, we have found shelter - a decrepit gas station.
The people at our place of refuge seemed to have been living there as long as the gas station, their dark skin weathered and beaten as if they had been working in the desert their entire lives. As we tried to regain our composure and dry out a little, we sat under the sagging awning that was covering the old, rusted gas pumps. A seemingly stray, pathetic, filthy, three-legged dog begged us for a few scraps of whatever we might have to add to his skin and bones body. As I dug out some jerky from the inside of my very wet coat, I must have alarmed him, for he ran off before receiving any morsels.
We waited and watched as the storm passed us by, leaving us free to go about our ride home.
As we resumed our adventure, I pondered on the events that had just occurred. As I was caught up in the fear and trepidation that we had experienced, I felt a calm. We had come through. We were safe. As I relaxed, I soon became aware of my current surroundings. First, the wetness of the road. How the steam from the heat of the warm September sun was drying the dark asphalt even as we rode over it. Next, the smell of wet sage that permeated my nose, the scent of the red dirt fresh with the wetness of the storm. And lastly, the crispness of the air as we cut through it on our way back home. All of this together revealing to me yet again the greatness, majesty and grandeur that we enjoy on this earth.
I was anxious to be back in my warm, safe abode, yet with time I would look back upon this trial with admiration, for without this storm I would not have ever experienced the intimacy with the earth that one can only have while riding on a motorcycle, through the vast desert during a downpour, and after the storm has subsided.

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