All we are is dust in the wind

I had the doors and windows open when I was camped in Moab. It was warm and there was a nice cooling breeze. But the breeze suddenly turned into a powerful gust, bringing dirt and grit with it and leaving it as a "gift" in the Rolling Steel Tent. And then the wind was gone. "Oh yeah," I remembered, "this is part of what the desert is about."

That's a sample of the new dirt. I had rinsed off that step just the day before, so it had been clean. The worst part was the sand on the bed.