Juan is the Loneliest Number

Buzzing along in 117F Baja temps and in a road trance heading into the darkest storm clouds you’ve even seen… listening to Hank Williams Sr. on your headphones and floating along the scorching blacktop… wondering why THIS isn’t the music they play in church? Or, in any sacred place for that matter. So real… So honest.

I can’t tell you just how incredibly ethereal the desert smells in the Northern baja just after a rain in July. I really wish I could find the words to describe that heavenly fragrance.

The closest I can come to it is… imagine if the Mother of God were to be primping her holy self for a night at the opera… the perfume she’d wear might smell very similar to that intoxicating fragrance that rises from a freshly showered Northern Baja desert.

Image for this entry “HERE”:

“Juan is the Loneliest Number” ~ Northern Baja, Mexico © Skip Hunt

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Skip Hunt, born on the wind-swept plains of Oklahoma, is a professional photographer in Austin, Texas. He picked up a 35mm camera in the mid-1970’s and has never stopped sharing his unique vision via photographic images.

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  • RosaCobos
    RosaCobosabout 5 years ago

    Even the “bastard” city… the poor concrete… pavements… smells in an special way after the rain.
    What a wonder can the dessert be…?
    Life all pressured against the cursty soil.
    Fragant opening of the little plants stomes…
    Sandy and salty dust…
    agains crashed and beated by the rain..

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