School wouldn’t start until after Labor Day, or maybe when the harvest was in.
The monthly travelogue from the-ever itinerant Maderan, Leon Emo.
With the little fat guy in North Korea throwing around threats like baseballs at a Giants pre-game warm-up I was reminded of another tense time on
My own desert hideaways in the Northern Mojave were becoming a little hot, and I had given the last of my desert tours for the spring season.
The road seemed the same as it had been in 1974 when this future desert wanderer began my sojourns to the Northern Mojave.
It had been too long, or as my Timbisha Shoshone friend in Death Valley would tell me after not seeing me for months, “It has been too many moons.”