On the way down

Sitting here in the Ojinaga bus terminal with my selfdone pink manicure, bits of dark blue Smartwool sock stuck in the topcoat, I´m still a little anxious, but it´s lessening. I don´t feel like I´m fully in Mexico yet, as border towns are. The man who sold me my bus ticket had an almost accent free English. But this will change, I´m sure.

On the drive down from Alpine, there was a dust devil, sucking thick white dirt into the air. Tall, it was soild. And I thought about how, in my worst dreams, tonadoes hunted me down. But when things turned to good, I was able to unravel their funnels, disapating the fear. On the top of this devil was disperson, a thinning cloud as it gave up power over its captives, letting them loose to float or fly. I couldn´t take my eyes off it, off its gentle self destruction and return to peace.

And I couldn´t help but think: Yes, that´s what I want. I want to be like that.