When I Shut My Eyes I can smell the Wild West

This acute drought invites the short shadows of desert life into my Appalachian sentience and such allows my mind to veer off into those desert colors I once saw in the four corners, and the smell of the odd red and those stramge green striations on desert walls of younger western montanas that might resemeble the bones of these ancient Appalachain rises. Rise and fall, my beloved friends. Nevermind the hill and holler billies within this vertical life, dry with summer arid all around makes me inhale the desert and sadly forsee my own mountain rain forests succomb to the same climatic provenance of those western ranges long after I have contributed my own set of bones to their earthworks.