An Open Space

Barren dirt with cracks throughout its membrane covered the ground for miles to see. The radio blasted heavy metal slightly louder than the engine of my uncle’s truck. Brian said he loved the desert, but I didn’t see why. It was waterless, lifeless, and useless. The only thing I really loved was the lack of insects.
The truck eventually stopped dead center of a few trees. “Come on.” He spoke, grabbing an axe from the bed of the truck. We were getting firewood, and I was reluctant to do any sort of work. I wanted air conditioning and water, so I stayed inside the truck.
“I’m not going.” I snapped, crossing my arms. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest.
I watched as he chopped branches off the trees and spoke aloud, “If you cut from the bottom, it won’t ever grow back, but if you cut from the top, it has a chance.”
I didn’t admit it, but I found that interesting.
“Ah, look here!” He cheered, grabbing something from the tree, “a lizard!” He brought over a yellow lizard with a scaled back.
I didn’t say it, but I thought the lizard was beautiful.
He smiled wide before closing the truck, “animals out here can go months without water. That little guy I held earlier probably hasn’t had a sip in weeks.” He looked amazed.
I didn’t let it show, but he knew I was amazed too. I never told him, but I fell in love with the desert that day and since then, I haven’t been able to leave it for too long. The desert became my home, and every now and then, I get a little homesick.