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THE AIR IS THE COLOR OF FRAPPUCCINO , filled either with dust or smoke . The last road sign I encountered said something about Smoky Valley , but that was 20 miles back . I watch a dust devil form to the south . It is whimsical , unfocused , a yearling . As I approach , it grows stronger , rises hundreds of yards into the air , and becomes opaque and turbulent like the clouds that carried prophets to heaven in the old family Bible . Awesome .