The Dust

At one end of the pueblito decades-old blacktop is being fragmented into fist sized chunks by heavy machinery. Mound after mound of rubble is scooped up and loaded into dump trucks by a fleet of diesel powered monsters, then hauled off, leaving the streets dirt naked. Traffic, such as it is, raises a plume of fine powder that hangs like an oppressive translucent cloud. The dust coats everything, mixing with the morning dew producing a muddy film. Near the end of the day the sun turns a burnt orange, while the moon floats a few degrees above the horizon as a dirty white orb in the east.

Should the weather continue dry the dusty oppression will only grow worse. On the other hand, if a good rain makes its way into the area Benavides will look as though everyone from grandma to the dog had lost their mind and taken up 4X4 mudding. Wet or dry it isn't going to be pretty anytime soon around here. Makes me wish I had invested in a car wash. The plague of dirt and grime around town are epic in proportion. Perhaps, but not nearly, Biblical.

The prohibition from using the term "Biblical" to label proportions of dust is owed to the fact that Benavides is so small and insignificant. We don't have the numbers or the relevance to claim that any curse or blessing visited on the pueblito is of a Biblical scale. But on some days when you can't see to the end of the block because of the dirt churned up by some idiot barreling through in a speeding truck, the vortex of dust does seem Biblical in proportion and it indeed comes across as a curse.

We're an optimistic bunch here in the brush country, Benavides especially. That optimism brings to mind some joke about the little boy digging deep into a pile of horse manure with his bare hands thinking to himself, "There must be a pony in here somewhere!" Patiently, the puebliteros (hat tip to Toddy Burns, the wordsmith) have been quietly performing penance in their beloved hamlet waiting for that eventual blessing from God because they've lived with the curse long enough.

Dust to dust. Amen.