Graves
This morning I went for a walk to the cemetery that sits beside the entrance to Maverick RV park where we’re spending a peaceful week in Lajitas. There’s not much to see at the cemetery. Most of the graves are unmarked barrows, piles of Boguillas sandstone, the bones of the earth covering the bones of men. Seems fitting and oddly peaceful.
At the moment there’s a strong north wind blowing, and it’s moving the sand around. When I think about erosion I seldom think of wind. But it’s always there, the most subtle of forces, sandblasting everything, the mountains, the plains and the remnants of markers at the Lajitas cemetery. Given enough time I imagine it will grind the ground flat, and wouldn’t that be something to see?
The front will be through by the end of the day, however, and Lajitas will return to a more peaceful winter life of sun and soft breezes, sunny and clear. Tomorrow my daughter and I will hike to Balanced Rock, others will do the South Rim, and still other’s will head to Boquillas crossing in the national park for a small counter invasion of gringos going south to shop, buy trinkets, and eat real Mexican food.