A remote dry camp called Corn Springs was previously the site of a natural pool where palm trees and homesteaders once laid their roots. Now the prospect of water has gone and the only remaining palms are headless and stand like giant sentries guarding this once prosperous oasis.
Fixated on the horizon where the moon would eventually appear I almost missed the fading sunset and the illumination of the awning from the campfire right behind me. Once again reminding me that the best pictures oftentimes are the ones unseen by me just over my shoulder.
