The Haze

Senegal has what they call the Harmattan -- two months of windy delight as (seemingly) all the sand of the Sahara blows into town and clogs up the air. It starts in January -- just about when we arrived here -- and this year has been worsening until now it's really just shy of silly. Dust one end of the house and it's dirty again before you're through with the other. Look at the horizon over the sea and it just looks kinda grey and murky. Even our little cat has, like, snot-dust coming out her nose and filling the little crevases (I panicked and assumed she was dying. It took me two days to figure it out. I am probably not going to be a very good mother.) Yesterday I left the house without sunglasses and so had to walk across town with my hands over my face, looking out through the little cracks between my fingers.)



Some days it is terrible, like a bad fire day in Northwest Montana. Some days it is okay. I think it is much worse psychologically when I leave the city; in the vast, open spaces and you can really see how clogged the air is. The photo here was taken on a rather extreme day, driving back from our weekend trip to the Saloum delta.