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On a monsoon evening, the sky streaked with golden bands, tropical clouds drawn up from the Sea of Cortez, everything is vibrant, delirious light. No sound but the crunch of boots and dog paws in the sandy wash lined with desert willow and Mormon tea, before we climb up to the mesa and through a high-desert forest of Joshua trees and Juniper. We sit for a while, at sunset: Great Apollo blazing over western mountains.
Support the show: https://www.patreon.com/desertoracle
See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
By Ken Layne4.9
810810 ratings
On a monsoon evening, the sky streaked with golden bands, tropical clouds drawn up from the Sea of Cortez, everything is vibrant, delirious light. No sound but the crunch of boots and dog paws in the sandy wash lined with desert willow and Mormon tea, before we climb up to the mesa and through a high-desert forest of Joshua trees and Juniper. We sit for a while, at sunset: Great Apollo blazing over western mountains.
Support the show: https://www.patreon.com/desertoracle
See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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