Chaotic Heart

This red thing
This arrhythmic thing
This beating heart
Pounding and pounding, pounding
Torn from the chest and held high
in infrangible grasp
in wild eccentricity
Uncontrolled
Sacrifice
unbalanced
This beating heart
erratically pulsing wave after wave of deep, red light
& silver, dull gray, ungreen
under these painted skies
Pounding, pounding, and pounding
in wild eccentricity
This Chaotic Heart
This arrhythmic thing
This red thing



Missing Pet

Mike, the pet jackrabbit, is missing!

This is a photo of Mike bolting out of the brush after some rustling around in there and getting part of his ear bitten off and eaten or something. Mike was last seen near Salt Springs hopping across the desert in the epitome of fear and the adrenaline rush of flight.

Mike, was the family’s favorite lagomorph. They would see him during their desert travels all over the place hopping out of a bush or across their path when they least expected.

After a fruitless 3 minute search for Mike, the family left to check-in at their hotel.

“Coming out of the parking area there was a clunk noise like we hit something,” one of the children stated.

“Mom started to say something, but dad said for her to shut up,” the kid continued.

There is no reward. Only closure for the kids.

Lone Wolf Colony

Health Ranch – Apple Valley, Ca.

Lone Wolf Colony is a Historical Landmark in the Town of Apple Valley, California.

Over 15 million people were killed during World War I (1914-1918), and a countless number of people were injured. The use of poison gas as a weapon caused many of these deaths and injuries. Suffering from the effects of poison gas during some returning Pacific Telephone and Telegraph employees were unable to obtain hospitalization or other care. The Southern California Telephone Company in Los Angeles began working to provide care and lodging for these recuperating veterans. By 1924 the Lone Wolf Colony was established.

Last Season

The season of the long shadows is over. Shadows clinging to the trunks of awkward trees, cactus, brush, and the base of rocks, stretched in desperation fearing their silent annihilation in the encroaching dark.

The new season brings foreshortened versions of silhouettes from the south. They emerge from the base of the mountains and then rapidly down the bajadas and canyons and arroyos, as it were. The day is quickly painted over in unsunlight and deep twilight while a cold nether rolls across the bristly plain.

The little rat people may look out of their little rat homes before retreating into their little rat holes to do whatever it is that little rat people do there.

The cutest little adorable cottontail bunny hippity-hops cautiously down the little bunny trail to have a little bunny snack. Or to die. Little bunnies generally do not usually live any longer than the moment they learn what a coyote is.

Alas! At the smother of darkness, the coyote has completed his transformation from a lazy begging dog to a starving psychotic murderer.

Carreta

American Automobile Assoc. photo

The pretty senorita is standing next to a carreta, a two-wheeled cart pulled by mules to haul freight in early Spanish and Mexican California. The carreta could be built quickly and inexpensively. Four-wheeled wagons in Southern California were a rarity if there were any at all until the first ones rolled in through the Cajon Pass in 1849 driven by Mormon pioneers.

Room 8

The Mystery of Room 8 . . .

Room 8 – Kelso Depot

The waitresses of Kelso Depot were disappearing from their quarters in Room 8. One by one, at some time during the dark of night, these young ladies would vanish without a trace or clue as to whatever may have happened to these delicate, polite, and refined maidens.

Upper floor on the left; Room 8

Many felt it was a curse, that possibly the Kelso Depot was built on sacred ground, but there was never a shred of proof that there was either a graveyard or spell over this piece of the desert country.

New girls, fresh waitresses would be brought in to fill the void left by these temporal spirits who would remain in the employ of the Union Pacific until their inevitable disappearance.

Go to the light . . .

This went on long enough that a definite pattern was observed and the mystery solved:

The single women that worked here would become so lonely during their time that they would escape in the dark of night with the first gentleman who would elope with her, and take her out of the desert.

At least that’s what I heard happened but you never really know, do you?

Kelso Depot

Kelso, California

Mojave National Preserve

Union Pacific Railroad