Sometimes I feel like a broken record. I feel like I always am talking, writing, and even singing, about dust. Even the sermon last night had dry bones and dust.
We've been cleaning out a school building lately and one of my friends commented that things weren't just "dusty" but that it was more like something out of Indiana Jones. That imagery is perfect.
Even last night, it rained. Here they call this kind of rain "xol baran" or "dirt rain". Everything is covered in a layer of dirt and dust. And here we live... washing constantly, fighting off the inevitable return of the tan and glorying in the days where the sky is clear so that you can see the mountains.