Standing out amongst the rocks and sand. Barely anything changed in over two hundred years. The mountains surrounding the valley, almost purple in the dry evening air. A deep breath and a thought: country a man could get lost in, and in himself. The smell of a desert rose drifts into my nose from somewhere beyond the ledge. The small sound of a womans laughter as a man no doubt lays on the charm. Everything above and below now a deep dark orange. It's almost time to go. One last deep breath, one more look around, one more moment to ponder the feel of the horse and the crispness of the dry air. Tomorrow I return back east. Oh I no I will think of the desert often, for it matches me perfectly.