The night is rescued by the south wind

Wind from the South

The setting sun turns the sky red the smoke

From fires in Oregon and California. The red

Haze settles over the mountain valleys and the

West wind waits to move it our way. When the

wind arrives after dark it surprises us all

it flows from the south the monsoonal flow

and its saturated air designed to douse the

fires sweep the sky clean. Pull back the curtains

open the windows wide. I smell the rain or think

I do but there are no clouds no lightning no

rumbles of thunder. But the wind from the

south fresh and cool unexpected treat from

the deserts of Saguaros and scorpions and

sweeps of sand. I turn my chair to the open

window tune out the ball game the cell phone

the gurgling kitchen noises. Just me and the

Wind here on the high prairie. The wind.