The Curse of the Dust Devils
By Brad Karelius, East Sierra Branch
We excerpt this passage from Desert Spirit Places: The Sacred Southwest
The hot August sun sets behind the Sierra Nevada as I walk a dusty trail towards the faded yellow Southern Pacific Railroad station. It lies off Narrow Gauge Road, north of Lone Pine. Dry still desert air suddenly takes on a brisk breeze. Ahead looms a smudgy brown swirling cloud. This is a dust devil. Many times have I seen and felt these turbulent little twisters spin across the highway and shake my car. This time I have no protection and the dust devil is headed directly towards me. Nowhere to turn. Nowhere to hide. I kneel down on the trail, tug my shirt over my mouth and nose, cover my head with my arms, and wait.
The wind rushes in my ears. I am pelted with thousands of sand granules That is the preliminaries. Closer . . . closer. Now the devil envelopes me. It covers me like a heavy, billowing blanket. I can’t avoid taking the dust into my lungs. Then, after just a couple of minutes it is gone dancing on its capricious way, leaving me feeling like a horned-toad covered in desert siftings. The air is still again. That was an experience!
The Sinagua Indians of Arizona call dust devils Siwulogi. The word is pronounced in a respectful whisper. Siwulogi are believed to be evil spirits that emerge from underground. When they see a whirling in the distance, the Sinagua remove their hats and place them on the ground between themselves and the dust devil. My Latino parishioners use the name remolinos (swirls, confusion). The twisting clouds are to be respected by making the Sign of the Cross in their direction….
After my hair-raising experience, I actually felt fine. Little did I know that the Curse would take its time in possessing me! Two month later, in October, the change set in: I became increasingly fatigued, felt weaker, my joints ached, night sweats set in. I could hardly lift my head from the pillow, it felt like someone was trying to choke me all the time….
My internist, Dr. James Sperber…came up with the hypothesis that I was suffering from coccidioidomycosis—valley fever. Cocci is a fungal disease common in desert climates….
Perhaps valley fever was the legendary curse of King Tutankhamen’s tomb….
Dr. Jim prescribed for me a common antifungal medication, Difulcan. Within two day I was up and mowing the front lawn.
A profound respect for the mysterious dust devil has never left me.
Associate professor of philosophy and Episcopal priest
Brad Karelius specializes in a genre
reviewers have described as spiritual geography.