To the dump, to the dump, to the dump dump dump

The entrance to the perpetually burning dump at sunset last night

We don't have much for entertainment here, but a trip to the dump is always fun. Razor wire, gloves, used small appliances, camo netting for smoking areas, furniture... you name it, it ends up at the dump when people leave. "Where'd you find that?" is almost always answered with, "At the dump."

Usually the wind blows the smoke towards Iran, but today we had a weak front move up from the south and blew the smoke our way. It made me nostalgic for the way dumps used to smell when I was a kid. My Dad and I would make trips to the dump from his shop in town and I'd always come home with some treasures from the land of unwanted toys. It rained today and that means the dump is going to be one big muddy mess for a while.

The dump is the daytime place to go birding. Lately, the place has been over-run with starlings. Think Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds". They sit along the roadside berm in a row, one after the other, by the thousands waiting for the next big load of goodies to come in. There are usually wagtails, collared doves and crested larks here too. I talked to a guy out here today with a PhD in reptiles of all things. I was hoping he'd tell me some neat stories about all the poisonous snakes they warned us about at Ft. Bliss. Nope. He said, "We'd have to go out to the desert to find poisonous snakes and we're not allowed (because we'll get shot at)." The irony was not lost on me. I've been out to the dump several times in the evening riding my bike circuit and have never seen a single bird. They must go somewhere else for dinner.