The wild mirage of 88NVSeptember 12, 2012
It is a long ride to the city’s back edge, where a beacon circles lazily, the only bright light for miles that is neither steady and still or bearing a rapid pulse. There is a terminal there, a tower, a customs office. There are call signs and procedures. But it is still wild up above the runway in the late afternoon, where a small plane struggles to descend, gliding through misguided currents and disappearing in towers of dust for long seconds. It is still a wild mirage that appears, then dissipates, settles into the desert at week’s end.