Heat and Houses

The scorching heat is back again.  Here, it sticks around for most of the year.  When you walk on the sidewalk without shoes, the sidewalk leaves blisters on your feet.  The heat is unrelenting, and it's so dry that you don't even sweat.    At its worst, the desert takes no prisoners and is a force of destruction. But at its best, it can even be a home.


In the western part of the country, the landscape is different. Here, we see green. Green grass, green plants, green trees. There is no green there. There is only orange and brown, the colors of sand and rock.


The houses are an extension of this. They are like bricks, stacked on top of each other in a haphazardly fashion. To many, the rectangular houses are the first thing they notice about how “different” the west is. For me, it wasn't my first impression, but it was the one with the biggest impact.


It's something that defies logical explanation, but that is just the way it is. The thing that left the biggest impact on me wasn't the sweltering heat, or the landscape of the desert, or even the nostalgic memories of childhood. Instead, the thing that I remember most about living in the desert are the houses.


And I don't know why.

Works Cited

2007. Photograph. active rain, Albuquerque. Web. 24 Sep 2013. 
      <http://activerain.com/image_store/uploads/4/4/0/5/5/ar119926379955044.JPG>.