Crossing the Desert: A Motorized Novel - Softcover

Ken Rubin is an unrepentant roadtripper and migratory creature by nature, and has traveled and lived in various places throughout the United States, from Ocean Grove, New Jersey to Ocean Beach, California. He received his Bachelor of Arts from Thomas Edison College, and has worked as a motion picture cameraman, computer programmer, and Ferris wheel operator. He currently resides in Joshua Tree, California and is at this very moment planning his next roadtrip.

Five small tree lizards darted about while Henry Calaway rested beneath a tall thicket of desert willows. He'd been hiking along a dry creek, under the hot morning sun, and now the shade and the soft, sandy soil felt cool next to his skin. He watched these creatures, these weathered, shriveled bits of life, all brown and gray, as they scurried from rock to rock and shared their secret hiding places with him.

He had heard that tree lizards were supposed to be a particularly shy and cautious bunch, but they never seemed intimidated when he was around. One of them had even crawled onto the tip of his hiking boot. He liked them quite a lot.

Just ahead, Henry could see a valley covered with spring wildflowers and cactus blossoms. He thought of that metaphor often used to describe something, or someone, who's never been fully appreciated... "a flower that blooms in the desert." But Henry knew that these flowers were just as colorful, that they live and fulfill their function perfectly, whether or not anyone ever takes notice of them.

He thought of that riddle... "if a tree falls in the forest but there's no one around to hear it, would it make a sound?" How strange that such a question would actually puzzle some people. To believe that if we aren't there to experience something, then it doesn't exist. The thought of such foolishness made Henry laugh out loud, and the reverberations echoed back to him from the valley below.

White, purple, yellow, and orange. Blankets of color, miles wide. Delicate little wildflowers, hugging the desert floor, whirling and twisting in the hot, dry wind. Their pungent scent, mixed with the heat, was intoxicating to him. They stretched out before him, as far as he could see.

He laughed again. He couldn't help it. Does all this beauty stop at the horizon, simply because he can't see what's beyond? Will all the flowers disappear when he goes away? Does this earth only exist to amuse us?

Such childish, self-centered thinking.

Henry got up, dusted himself off, and started walking back towards where he had parked his camper. After two weeks of exploring, it was time to pick up some fresh supplies in the nearest town, and then head off for somewhere new.