Desert Oracle Radio, the voice of the desert.

Night has fallen on the desert, the sublime southwestern realm of the Joshua tree and the jackalope.

From East California to West Texas, the wildest part of America.

Another winter storm blasting the mountains and the Mojave beyond,

and I awoke to snow-dusted hills, preferable to the cold driving rain of the morning previous, when heroically the dog and I completed the usual morning walk up to the ridgeline,

but when we returned home, he was unwilling to go outside again,

even to investigate the bunnies.

I dried him off, and he slept by the fireplace soaking up heat instead of rainwater.

The creatures continue. They return to this little bit of desert they call home from spring to late autumn at least the relative protection of

this fenced acre or so safe from the wrecking crews of yard workers and poison sprays as long as I'm around.

The Mojave cotton tails are fattening up on whatever green sprouts appear.

My favorite pair of morning doves who barely step aside for me so comfortable they've become these past five springs on my patio.

The hummingbirds are back to Glory B, which means glory be to God. If you've grown up in the past

40 years or so, never heard the whole phrase.

I've been listening to one of my favorite history books again. Will Durant's Caesar and Christ,

the audiobook version read by Grover Gardner, my favorite American narrator.

We all have our various preferences, which we are nearly helpless at keeping to ourselves.

And my preferred audiobook narrator is a British voice of approximately 75 years old,

mellowed by scotch and cigar. Maybe you know the type. Latin, Greek, and French phrases

are expertly yet casually pronounced.

When you can almost see a wiry, gray-haired eyebrow raised slightly

when some outrageous detail is delivered in deadpan style.

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