February Here - Feb. 22, 2026

In my town, blue sky and sun

warm old bones, that lay next to

pools and stroll down sidewalks.

It’s a two miles-per-hour lifestyle.

In fact, a horse and carriage would

make a charming day trip down valley,

starting after a lazy 10 a.m. breakfast.

You’d find the views of the mountain’s

change every ten wheel bumps or so

as you passed sandy farms and dry ranches,

stopped around 12:30 for refreshments and

water for the horses – a stable with a

snack bar would be perfect – then more

horse pull until a workhand spotted your party

as it trundled up the estate’s dusty entrance,

ran to get his boss, your friend, as you

stepped down from the coach for a warm

embrace, wooden chairs and lemonade

Well, a hundred years ago, you could

have lived that February day. The horses

are mostly gone, any carriages left sit in

museums, but there’s something in the

desert ‘s uncountable grains of sand,

a sleepy sun lifting an oasis of flowers,

palm trees scattered around blue pools

of water, that still slows down the days

here, that speed of life lingers