The Angle

Article Title

Western Sanctuaries

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In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"From a splintering wicker chair on our screened-in porch, I watch the thunderheads rolling off into the West, leaving only the soft patting sound of rain falling on dirt. Trush lies next to me, head high, ears falling back, sniffing the soaked air. I smell it, too----cowboy cologne. At least, that is what my mom calls it, and every other western romantic. It scents this desert after every rain. It's derived from the earth, from a plant called sagebrush. I have never smelled it anywhere else."

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