A little shard from the red rock desert

 As I sit here, I await inspiration, my gaze fixed on the mesas of the Bunting/Spur Trail in front of me. I hear a scrub jay—another little sound twitting. The colors around me subtly shift with the changing light. I finish my cigarette and put it out in the red dirt beneath me. A bird flaps its wings as it flies by. I realize I don’t have my phone; I want to capture this moment with a picture. An insect buzzes past my ear, and I hear a woodpecker tapping away—though it could just as easily be a neighbor hammering something.

A motorcycle engine is roaring on the street behind me. I'm unable to reach for my phone to record any of this. I shift my attention to the far right part of the mesa and see an American flag gently waving in the breeze. The sun hangs low to my left, the air pleasant, mostly still, with occasional waves of breeze. I don't see any critters moving about. The motor of the motorcycle is still behind me. The woodpecker is certainly tapping away. 

An airplane flies overhead, breaking my thoughts. In my peripheral vision, I spot a tiny black bug flying as I continue to write. Is this a form of meditation that I'm describing, or is it my ADD? I decide to go home to retrieve my phone. Once I have it, I take the picture.