In the desert to the west of Las Vegas is an area commonly known as Red Rock. The rocks there are red. The desert discourages unnecessary effort. Evidenced here in the naming of this stretch of desert. There is a path frequently trod up an incline barely qualifying as a hill. A sharp hot breeze cuts amongst the sparse branches of the handful of trees growing on the shaded side of the terrain. Evening approaches. Sun sets, a sliver of moon rises. Pinprick stars outline ancient mythology in the sky. Epics so old the heavens are best qualified to tell the story. The pinpricks, however literate, do not light the path. Rocks—red ones—and gravel crunch in the dry grass, unseen underfoot. The way home is felt, not seen.

Mountains of red rocks

Rocks red under desert sun

Black under moon

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