Sitting and Resting My Booted Feet

In quilted emerald fields of desert clover...

I've been trampling long over high desert terrain
A range covering dry sand and silt alternating gravel and rocks,
Sockets of arid thistle, punctuated with prickly pears and creosote.
Trudging, mostly looking at the ground to avoid the sun,
In a slow ocular dawning my eye corner notices a damp wash.

A centerline trickle of water causes my head to tilt and squint in the sun.
Ah ha! The wash widens ascending down with alluvial fan's beaded streams,
Pouring from mesa lined with deep tap rooted bushes and in between
A rich overlay of desert clover to rest my feet while sitting on a boulder.
Enveloping my boots it tantalizes my feet before being soaked in cool water.