One day there will be a crackling, clean, creosote smell in the air and the ground will be charged and the hair on your arm will stand on end and then BOOM, you are thrillingly drenched. All the desert toads crawl out of their burrows, swell out their throats, and scream for sex while puddles last. The ocotillos leaf out before your eyes, like a nature show on fast forward. There is so little time before the water sizzles back to thin air again. So little time to live a whole life in the desert. This is elemental mortality, the root of all passion.
-- Barbara Kingsolver,
High Tide in Tucson
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