Marfa, Texas — On my last day here, I head out into the early cool once again, this time to the town’s new dog park, so new that no one seems to use it. Unlike the other few patches of grass-like vegetation around town, this one seems relatively free of the burrs that have been surprising Cady and training her to walk on three legs.
I sit on a bench and sing while encouraging her to get her yah yahs out before the long drive home.
Relative to the desolate streets I’ve walked over the last few days here, early morning Marfa is Manhattan rush hour. I see two trucks pass within 30 yards of each other, and another not far behind. I can’t help but feel excitement for this frenetic uprising of human activity.
My song is plain today, still dry like the air.