You know I contend that the place you choose, or that has chosen you, gets its claws in you and doesn't let go. Your Honor, I offer this post by Doc Rock at WriteOutLoud, "Love in the Desert" as Exhibit #1.
She writes:
Warm or cool, summer night air in the desert has the aura of a fragrant, erotic embrace. It wraps itself around you, runs its fingers through your hair, soothes you with nonstop crickets and occasional birdsong. Its warmth, and its heady blend of cooling sand and grasses, sharp creosote, flowering vines, blooming citrus, invite you to take off your clothes. Especially in the vicinity of a swimming pool, especially if its underwater light is on, rippling turquoise depths beckon, Siren-like: "Strip down and jump in!" they call. "We're waiting!"
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