Post by stormwolf on May 10, 2008 18:03:48 GMT -5
Dance of the Dust Devils
It was near the end of the Gulf War, and we rolled across the desert on what seemed to be the hottest day so far that year. I stood outside my hatch as the column of tanks marched towards our temporary home. The engine gave an eerie roar then coughed its final breath as the crew as my tank came to a grinding halt. The desert sand had taken its toll upon this heavy, manmade beast of burden, and the heat of the day had given it that final shove over the edge. I could not tell how hot it was for I had no gauge, but the sand seemed to shine brightly as if waiting upon the glassmaker, to show that it was ready for a master’s touch.
The next morning as we waited on the mechanics to show, the wind picked up as we started the day’s activity, but it was not much more then a breeze. I heard the first whoosh of air as I finished greasing the tracks, turning my attention toward the sound and saw the first dust devil.
She was small, unlike her cousins, dancing like a child playing hopscotch in a schoolyard and singing a tune of “let ‘um whirl.” She moved down the road with her laughter floating across the sea of sand as if time has no meaning for her. She was soon followed by yet another, Like a mother chasing after it’s child, it pranced, calling after the small cyclone.
One by one they came down the road as if on a busy New York City Street. They made their way across the plain, each, different from the last, each, taking on a personality all their own. I watched all those who danced past me with amazement, as they ran and played games, seeing how many camels they could chase.
As I finished up with I disagreeignment, I found a little free time to watch the parade of windblown sand. I started out across the road to catch a better view when my eyes caught sight of a beautiful filly leaping over the dune. Her figure was slender as any magazine model, and her sand was a golden brown that glistened in the afternoon sun like the pearls of an oyster.
She whistled a tune of silent running as she played with a stick that twirled at her feet. She saw me as I ran towards her, chasing the trail of sweetened dust that she had left. A giggle soon followed, knowing that I had been teased by her scent and she ran away as quickly as she had come, knowing I could not keep up with her.
I gave up the chase and watched her dance into the east, well beyond my imagination. As I started to turn to head home again an angry sound came sneaking up from behind me. I turned to find a devil of a brute plowing full speed ahead. With no time to react, I was impacted like a freight train, slamming me to the ground. He rolled me around kicking sand, grass, and other unmentionables into my face. The bully passed quickly and I came to a halt. I sat up and heard their laughter as I watched the two fade into the distance.
“That will teach me to chase after another’s devil!” I thought as I wiped the dirt from my smile. I returned to my tank hoping not to have to explain what everyone had just witnessed, my smile, the only trace left of the joy that I bared.
I have searched the world for them, watching the deserts for their endless march across time. Hoping to once again, witness another day like the dance of the dust devils.
Stormy
