Beautiful as it is, this weathered stump sums up why I don’t want to live in the desert. Simply put: it’s too hard. (Please have a look at the larger version, the details really tell the story.)
It’s too dry. The light is too bright and harsh. The scenery is unforgiving of error. It’s flat or it’s steep and jagged. There’s no softness in it, anywhere—except maybe in the thinnest of margins along a river.
I am not strong enough for the high desert. I have admiration for those who are.
