Chapter TenSchools Are Self-Correcting: Empathy, Mindfulness, and Reflection
High desert, low desert, sand dunes, stone cliffs, saguaro wash, cholla hell. If you want to taste the true soul of the desert, not a place on the map with a Hollywood name, but the grand reach of dry land that covers a third of North America, then you must leave the places of people behind. The desert sun will split rocks and boil blood, bleach a Coors can white in two desperate months. Canyon wall echoes are swallowed in sandy washes and evaporate on the endless flats. Most days, other than wind and maybe one raptor’s cry, the desert is deaf.
Rattlesnakes don’t bother to coil and strike. Unless you step on them, they just don’t care. In the desert the bad things ...
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