White Sands

WHITE MADNESS

Feet bouncing on moonlit sand — whiter than is minerally possible. Shining even brighter, an elongated transdimensional craft comes flying at low speed over the dunes, making repeated passages for our edification. *  At each sighting JP madly applauds then tries out invented mudras in an attempt to communicate.

Meanwhile down in a sand bowl — in subfreezing temperatures — R has stripped naked and dances to the beat of his drum.

*  Or could that be a Park Ranger on ATV trying to find us (who do not have a backcountry permit)? In the Daimonic Reality / Archetypal Imagination / Collective Unconscious / Anima Mundi scheme of things, it would not have mattered — what did was our experience of it and its affect upon us.