It comes racing down the eastern side of the mountains as the dawn’s rays are just coloring the sky. It’s vain and wants attention so it howls and screams and shakes every structure it passes. The trees bend before it and little swirls of dust rise and fall back to earth. Even with the sun starting to shine brightly it is still cold and sharp.

When the wind blows in the desert the day never really gets started. You hunker down in whatever shelter you have, from tent to trailer or, for some, just a tarp-shrouded tree. You can make a list of things you want to get done but as for braving out into the storm even the foolhardy have some sense.

I’ve returned to East Jesus, just past Salvation Mountain; with those names you might think this an overly religious area. Maybe it is, but in more a spiritual sense than any organized form of worship. We hold to the basic tenets of mankind: to come together and share our meager resources and kindred spirits, to gather wood and carry water, to cook and eat and tell stories. To laugh and commiserate, to dream and discover, to learn and debate while never knowing what might happen next.

While we have many things in common with our earliest ancestors we also keep up with modern day. We have solar power for electricity and propane for fire, laptop computers and cell phones for news, Wi-fi and cell towers for connectivity. It doesn’t seem strange to us to watch the newest video by the campfire light.

And when we get bored with the mundane activities of the day we have the desert to entertain us. Wildlife and sunsets, burning car bonfires, zombie marksmanship contests with firearms — or if you have an idea (and can find the materials) you can build whatever takes your fancy. Interested in architecture? Then you can build a Roman arch out of empty liquor bottles or a pyramid out of old nitrous bottles. Maybe you always wanted to fling something skyward with a catapult or trebuchet. Something simple like just splashing paint on a surface or gluing figurines to a car. Your options are as wide-open as the horizon.

In the couple months I’ve been here we’ve done quite a few construction projects: enclosed a work area between the two cargo units, redid the kitchen ceiling and built new tables, rewired the panels and installed more plugs, put down a new shower floor and even built a new compound for the hitch-hikers. With this I took a special delight in having a grill and tables raised off the ground and to a comfortable height.

Last year I camped for the season in a tent and this year I’ve been gifted with a whole trailer. Along with a straw-bale wall and another camper we’ve surrounded ourselves with a barrier from the winter winds. Of course when living in a mansion of this size it’s a bit of a walk to the other wings but at least it provides privacy.

The hot springs are still often visited and we have the music of the Range, our local weekly talent show, as well as a steady stream of visitors. From art car aficionados to weary travelers, from all points of the compass and even as far as crossing the seas, they come in recreational campers, vans, motorcycles, bikes or by thumb. They have heard about something in the desert, told to them by somebody, and it has piqued their interest enough to make the journey. And when they arrive they find something that is much different than what they expected, and a group that is more interested in them.