Angels and a Texas ‘hold my beer’ dust storm…
Such a beautiful full-circle moment—proof that kindness ripples out in ways we can’t always predict. It’s like the universe knew you’d need a safe haven in Texas and sent you that angel back in Arizona to connect the dots.
This journey keeps proving that there are good people everywhere, and it’s not just about the miles I walk but the hearts I meet along the way.
Also, surviving a Texas “hold my beer” dust storm? That’s a badge of honor!
Who knew that a chance meeting in an Arizona campground around a campfire would lead me to this moment—a warm, safe haven in Texas, surrounded by kindness, art, and the ever-present hum of nature?
Back in Arizona, I met a woman who immediately felt like kin. She lived just across the way from the campground where I was resting, and from the moment we spoke, I knew she was special. She’s the kind of person who collects not just animals but souls in need of love—pigs, cats, dogs, goats, and donkeys, all coexisting in the most delightful little ranchito I’ve ever seen. Her home wasn’t just a place; it was a sanctuary, pulsing with life and love, proof that some hearts are big enough to hold the world.
Fast forward to today, and here I am in Texas, caught in the early chaos of a dust storm that threatens to sweep Gertrude and me straight into Oz. The wind howls, tumbleweeds skitter like wild spirits, and the horizon blurs into a sepia-toned haze. I’ve been staring at a blimp—yes, a blimp (some government thing on the border here) —for the last ten minutes, as if it might hold the answer to how I’m going to make it 15 miles to safety before the storm claims me.
Then, like a scene out of a movie, a Sprinter van pulls up. Two Brits hop out, cameras in hand, equally mesmerized by the ‘floating’ anomaly in the distance. A conversation sparks—one of those effortless, serendipitous ones where strangers quickly become allies. Within minutes, they are making room for me for a ride into town, saving Gertrude and me from a fate of wind-driven chaos. But the magic doesn’t stop there.
Through them, I’m led to the friends of my Arizona angel. One owns an art gallery—a divine space, where every corner breathes creativity and soul. She welcomes me with open arms, no hesitation, just that rare and beautiful trust in the goodness of people. Then, she takes me to another friend’s home, where a dreamy little casita waits for me like a secret oasis.
The walls here hold stories, the air is thick with peace, and for the first time today, I exhale fully. I am warm. I am safe. And I am in the presence of strangers who feel like family.
This is the power of human connection—the kind of thing you can’t force, plan, or predict. It’s the quiet magic of truly seeing and being seen, of conversations that weave unexpected lifelines, of doors opening simply because someone believes you should step inside.
The dust storm rages on outside, but here in this little casita, I am untouched. Held. Grateful. And reminded, yet again, that the road has a way of delivering exactly what you need, exactly when you need it.