The first day of Spring brings the first significant snow of the year. I queue up at Albuquerque's airport, where I meet a man in transit from Denver, also on his way to Florida. "It'll snow when we get there," he laughs. "Why?" "Because this storm's been following me all morning."

Some hours later, we emerge into the usual heat & humidity that woo me into forgetting the perils of poverty for the conceits of prosperity. 

The Caribbean van driver who is taking me to my rental car hears his two-way radio command: Driver, return to base. He grins and says, "They know my name. Why do they still call me Driver?" "It's more business-like," I offer. "But they know my name," he insists, the smile never leaving his face.

Tonight I will dream:

Two nuclear bombs have exploded in New Mexico. Someone says, "The radiation will reach us soon." My family and I jump into a car, but we don't get far enough away.