Most animals, when not fleeing in terror, behave as if they're curious. The few snakes I've met lying in the road had proprietary airs. This one was eminently polite in that it was, as I became aware of it, moving away.
It raised its head to ensure a clear view of the triangular shape and it gave forth with one, little "click" of its tail, lest there be any doubt. But the impression was of benign consideration...more, perhaps for my bumbling and its potential for injury than any concern for *my* welfare, but no hint, at least as far as I could tell, of aggression.
Anthropomorphizing has been looked down upon by the western mind of Greek origin, but of late, as occurred with olde-timey religions, people are drifting away from that sterile, emotionless world and appreciating that we, as members of the animal kingdom (and perhaps even innanimate things too) have similar emotions as the rest of the menangerie prompting me to surmise that, at least for some, their fear has been engendered by our self-centered disregard...rather than anything innate.
The day began with an impending crisis: tea-milk shortage! Urgency was imbued through the collective unconscious awareness of a single jug sitting, at risk, at the store in Empire, the only store for 60 miles. We arrived in time to be the chosen ones.
Returning to Bruno's Country Club in Gerlach, we met Zach, the new chef. He'd just arrived from northern Indiana via Houston, Missouri and a couple of other places inbetween. Our veggie omelettes had us both sitting up and beaming like a pair of prairie dawgs.
And when a German sits down to eat, it's serious business.
Burning Man without the other 79,998 people expected this year.
I've come to think of Nevada's claim to fame as the astounding expanses that're constantly changing with the light. We spent three days watching.
The pentangle in the lower left is the area wherein Burning Man occurs.
We camped on a bluff. The image above is of the view southward...toward Gerlach.
Here, the distant hills (above) seen in the previous photo, emerge while the closer "humpies" disappear. (Humpies is a term borrowed from the lexicon/nomenclature of sexology. Though I began my undergraduate work in Geology, I eventually moved to Geography where things were more, to my way of thinking, more lyrical.)
