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Cowboy had his hat off and his boots off, one paintbrush in his hand and one between his teeth. High on a wooden scaffolding in his socks—clean socks, you'll note—he was painting the roiling boiling clouds massed over the desert during a summer monsoon.
Turned out, cowboy was a painter after all and his paintings were as enormous as all outdoors, which was his subject—all outdoors. Cowboy was a landscape painter and he painted the Sonoran Desert like the Hudson River School once painted nineteenth century America: romantically, lyrically, mystically, and very very large.
Molly in the doorway, smiling. "I was looking for Paula's room—do you sell these?"
No pause in his painting, cowboy spoke around his brush, "You buyin' one?"
"I would. But there's not a wall in my house it would fit."
No response.
"I took art courses in college."
No response.
"I thought I would be an artist."
No response.
Getting embarrassing here. You being pathetically eager and obvious, him being—at best—hard of hearing. But more like unimpressed and uninterested. As well as too obviously busy.
How to back out without looking rejected? How to slink away? Oh, for rollers on the soles of your feet, silent and swift.
Smile back in her pocket, Molly edging out the door.
He hasn't asked you, he won't ask you, but you will. Why aren't you an artist?
—Walks Away Woman, Ki Longfellow, page 101
          





Sonoran Desert Beehive
Molly Brock backing up, slowly, and with intense care, one step, two. Another buzz in her ear. In both ears. In front of her face, not more than three feet away, a beehive. A beehive like a sack of shining white laundry hanging from a mesquite branch, a beehive so heavy, so loaded at the bottom with golden honey, the branch it hung from had split, might crash to the ground at any moment. And when it did, it would take the hive with it, and when the hive hit the ground, it would burst like an avocado with golden flesh—and out would pour unutterable sweetness and unutterable horror.
From inside the hive, an ominous buzzing. Molly backing into Brewster.
"Move, Brue. Please."
— Walks Away Woman, Ki Longfellow, page 138



Google Map Sonoran Desert
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Ocelot
Leopard Frog
Desert Tortoise
Sonoran Desert Places

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