One Friday afternoon, we were just finishing our meal when John looked out the open door and saw a haboob coming. He got his camera to photograph it. We watched in horror as the huge cloud of dust, about 300 feet of it, moved ever closer.
One moment, the garden was green; the next, it was yellow from the approaching dust. We urged John to come inside and close the door to keep dust from filling the house. Just as it reached us, he took one last photo and came inside. Those pictures are worth a thousand words!
A dust storm (haboob) approaching
It is funny how quickly I adapted to my surroundings. Dust was part of the environment. So, if I could view nearby buildings, it would be a clear day. If I couldn’t, it would be dusty. The sky was always brown or yellow. One day, I exclaimed in surprise, “The sky is blue!”
Alison glanced up and said, “So it is! But you can’t go home saying things like that!” After my eight months in this desert city, brown became the normal color for the sky.
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