Oasis

In the middle of the desert there is an oasis.  Water, lush foliage, and fan palms burst from the earth creating an environment that makes me giddy.  Dwarfed under forty-five foot trees and clusters of falling skirts, I'm transported to a land before time.  I imagine Indians building shelter from the trunks and expansive fronds as a hidden orchestra leads the brittle leaves in a symphony.  I envision Hawaiian girls swaying in the wind. The clump of trees gives way to rolling hills of sagebrush against a blue sky etched with clouds.  I'm thrust into a Merchant Ivory film wearing 19th century dress, a brimmed hat and impractical shoes, on a Sunday stroll liberated in the open fields.  The magic of the oasis is limitless.  It makes me want to set up an easel and capture the subtle range of greens, grays, and brown.  I get lost in the rhythm of the swooshing sand beneath my soles.  I've found heaven.