The desert day starts with sunrise, cactus a shadow that turns real as the sun slowly creeps over the mountain range to the east of my campsite.
It is a harsh place, the desert.
Cactus rise, and cactus fall.
But tiny miracles of green give hope. Life, indeed, finds its way here.
As with any place, there is beauty if searched for, contentment when found.
If you sing of beauty though alone in the heart of the desert, you will have an audience.