Spring is greening the desert. Creosote bushes are growing, weeds are sprouting up, native grasses are taking hold, cactuses are coming alive. I marvel that so much comes from almost nothing. A bit of water, a bit of sandy soil, a bit of sun, and something exists where nothing did before. I cherish that green. During the long winter, desert scenes can be bleak -- nothing but sand, sky, rocks, knolls. But now, last summer’s vegetation has been recycled, replenishing the soil from which it came.
Looking at the green, I am reminded of written words and how they come from almost nothing. A circle, a few lines, a couple of dots, various arcs, and something exists where nothing did before. We never run out of words. We use the same words over and over again, combining them infinitely into ideas, stories, lullabies.
Recycling the very same words we all use every day, I wrote four novels (including that one poor begotten thing that’s locked away never to see the light of publication) plus hundreds of bloggeries and thousands of comments. I hope my words live out their natural cycle, replenishing the mental soil from which they come, perhaps greening readers’ lives and minds with new growth, perhaps giving them a respite from the bleak winter of their problems.
Words. Infinitely recyclable. Always “green."