As Dave and I have recently made several trips through the desert, I thought I would post one about the power towers. Those elegant structures stringing across the desert follow us as we travel from Kingman to home, or home up to Utah, stopping around Vegas.
So we turned off at the Calico Early Man Site, but took a right onto a dirt road, hunting down the towers.
We stopped, and got out, cameras in hand.
I stood underneath a trio of lines, listening to them crackle and hum. It was eery, but very cool. I'm sure I increased my risk for cancer about a billion-fold (kidding) or else I zapped some brain cells into oblivion (kidding again).
These things are pretty massive.
I joined Dave underneath the structure of the one closest to our car.
I'm thinking there has to be a quilt in here somewhere. Or a quilt block. I remember the sketch of some power lines that resides on my parents bookcase, done by Jeff Rugh. Lots of associations were scrambling around my brain, as I stood out there in the wind.
Why is it that there never seems to be enough time to stop and linger a while, whether it is looking at power lines, or watching a hawk circle over the desert? We always seem to be in a rush, having to meet some deadline. I guess that's what retirement is for. We're a few years off from that, but I definitely want to go and see that Early Man site, if only to cross it off the list. And visit these power lines one more time.
Self-portrait in the desert. Time to go home.