She would have liked to meet him

She would have liked to have met him in a dusty desert with her tie on sandals caked with muddy dirt.  A religious ceremony and journey that coincided with happenstance--the kind you long for but often don't often encounter.  She was looking for a St. Boniface or Nicholas, the one with hidden treasures to impart.  Instead, she was in a frozen hinterland that perverted her plans.  The bitter wind trapped her and limited her trips.  The cold wind cut into her skin like hacked out fillets of vulnerable surface epidural and jarred her body into waves of protest that defeated her sense of adventure.  She remembered the days of standing on Skull Rock in Wright, California --a sort of bypass into the high desert- a last outpost with no clear definition or residents.  The trains would zoom down the panoramic scenic route of the 15 and broaden her view of possibility.  In a place such as that, she would have liked to have met the ghost of a 16th Century Spanish priest, laying down his idea of a future society.  One encased with goodness and true grit of survival.  It was there she felt this vision.  (to be continued)