Sunshine

The dust came in, the dust retreats, the sky is blue-grey, the sun beats through like a waterfall. Sunshine, a symbol of happiness, has quite a different meaning here. During Oregon summers I have a hard time not smiling when I wake up to sunny days. Yet here I yearn for a cloudy sky. Last night I went to midnight chow. The streets were quiet, temperatures dropped to 100 degrees, which after three months in the desert feels like a beautiful, winter chill. Back at home I locked myself out of my trailer and went to the housing office. One of the night workers walked with my back to my residence and unlocked my door for me. He has been in Iraq since December. Most civilian contractors spend two to four years without going home more than once. It makes my time here seem like less of a sacrifice.