23 June 2010
MOLESKINE REVERIES, PART TRES
I nervously disrobed in the dark, an outdoor shower beneath the millions of stars awaiting me. Is there a peeping tom with some vantage point I'm not aware of? Is someone going to pull the ultimate prank and steal my towel? All worry faded when I dialed in the warm water, spraying powerfully from the low-tech spigot and scented metallic with that marvelous, sun-warmed, garden hose essence. I looked up at the ceiling of twinkling white and felt the water envelop me and my tired skin. The warm mist rose above the army green canvas tarpaulin walls of the stall and caught the glow from the trailer's front door light. I never wanted to turn off this restorative flow , but felt like I should so I wrapped up in the bright red towel and realized that my hair was already blowing dry in this west Texas wind. I made up the front couch into my bed -- feels less stuffy than the back room of the Vagabond. It's like being lulled to sleep in a ship's hull. The wind is whipping up occasionally and I'm curious to know how cold it might get this late night. I've got sturdy cotton sheets and thick quilted canvas blankets, plush white pillows. I will sleep so very well tonight. Sweet dreams, little Marfa.