The hotel shuttle guy was talking about afternoon monsoons and flash floods and everything in the desert being angry and wanting to bite and to stick you. I am longing for Edwin Abbey's Desert Solitaire version. We will see.
It is 101 degrees but seems almost cool since there is no humidity.
The seatmate on the first flight spoke little English is in heading to Puerto Rico from the New York Bronx and heading to a halfway house. The second seatmate works for an oil company in Saudi Arabia and is on a five week vacation with one week at his house in Tuscon. Two different worlds much like Same Kind of Different As Me which I am reading on the trip thanks to a great recommendation from a longtime friend and author and gentle, wise one, Dorothy Shawhan.
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