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dust



Living in Central Oregon, one becomes accustomed to living with dust. Our semi-arid climate has a sandy, powder-like soil which appears to grow rocks.

How do you grow rocks? I don't know, but it happens. 

When I'm cleaning and dusting for the umpteenth time I don't recognize dust for the artistry it can become. Beauty is and always has been created from dust. Pottery, paint and even facial treatments come from dust. And we don't think a thing about slapping a mud mask on to tighten our pours or take care of a bee sting.

I asked myself an elementary question: What does dust do?

it clings and covers
      blows around
seeps in cracks and crevises
                         permeates
it stays and is ever-present
      dust is not a respecter of objects
it collects, hides
      fine, gritty, powder-like
in the air
    on faces and boots
feet and hands
            surfaces, plants and trees
dust is

As soon as dust lands, it's blown elsewhere or washed away. Wouldn't it be mind-altering if all our consternation did the same?


Missy


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