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MAY 30 / The Dust Devil__________________________
While feeding the animals, I’m distracted by a gentle whisper. Nearby, bits of dust are softly whisked upwards and then swept into a circle. A dust devil is in the birth stage, starting from nothing and gathering strength. This event is so close that I hear sand particles scrape against each other as they coil around and collide. Harmless whirlwinds, such as this, are common in Arizona in the summer, but nature always amazes me.
Suddenly, the newborn spectacle moves this direction. Strong air currents whoosh around and envelop my body. Hands instinctively cover my face, and sensitive eyes shut tight to keep out foreign material. Sharp grains sting as they hit exposed flesh. The wind presses clothing tightly against my skin, causing the extra fabric pieces to snap and pop like a flag. The rude bully threatens to push me over as he shoves me in one direction and then another. My wide-brimmed garden hat is snatched off my head.
This personal intimidation only lasts for a few seconds, but it seems much longer. When I open my eyes, the tiny twister has moved toward the garden. My hat, though, is still high in the air, floating like a kite hung on a string. Oddly, the item is not spinning around in a wide circle but is hanging suspended in one place. Since there’s no scarf or pin to throw it off balance, the straw crown spins on its own axis like a toy top. The dust devil is a mischievous child looking for a plaything and so runs off with my sunbonnet.
The wind teases, “Look at me! See what I can do!”
I watch helpless as the game continues, and the twirling toy climbs higher and then drifts toward the garden…or maybe the neighbor’s fence.
Laughter fills the air. “Shall I drop it in the garden or perhaps somewhere else?”
If my garden hat goes over the fence, I’ll have to buy a new one.
Actually, I’d like a new hat.
Nevertheless, both hands go to my hips in a stern attempt to reprimand the young menace.
“Bring that back!”
Then the naughty wind grows tired of playing and taunting me; it simply loses momentum and is gone. The stolen property is gently deposited in the garden.
No new hat today.
Tale of magic * * * * * * * * * * An Epiphany
The dust devil drops my wide-brimmed hat atop a group of canal daisies.
After brushing sand off my clothes and shaking my head to remove dust from my hair, I head into the garden to reclaim my property.
As my fingertips reach for the straw brim, an unexpected rustling makes me to jump back.
Is it a snake?
This is diamondback country, and the dangerous vipers sometimes hide in the garden. I watch from a safe distance as the hat begins to move as if alive. It sways and dips gracefully like a ballet dancer’s skirt, first to the right and then the left.
Are wind currents causing this?
Then the performer starts to wiggle and jiggle. Finally, the front brim rises.
Is something underneath?
Hands go to my knees for support as I bend over to peer under the edge. Eyes strain to focus in the dark shaded region beneath the crown.
My breath, almost nonexistent, suddenly draws in as a loud gasp.
I scream! It’s a long, high-pitched, frightened, little-girl sort of shriek.
“Stop! Please stop!” Pudgy fingers clasp tightly over his huge blocky ears.
My breath is short and shallow as I struggle to make sense of what’s happening. Sometimes a person encounters a situation too incredible to believe. The witness must abandon everything previously believed to be true, altering the basic structure of reality, like seeing a UFO.
This is called an epiphany. My epiphany is a little man with a big bulbous nose and a smooth, mischievous, baby face.
“Sit. No fall down!” he begs.
Dizzy, I lower myself to the ground sitting cross-legged and looking straight into the strange puzzling eyes of who-knows-what.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I ask.
“Many names. Heard wish. Saw light. Want help you.”
“Help with what?”
He leans forward and whispers, “Darkness comes!”
I wake up on the living room couch not sure how I got here.
* * * * * * * * * *
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