Fox reporter Lisa Breckenridge confers with the man to set up a shot from the scene, just as a camera truck from a rival station pulls into the parking lot.
”Working press only!“ the Fox cameraman shouts with a chuckle. ”This ain‘t no KOA campground!“
Breckenridge begins her report just as a waste-removal truck noisily rumbles into the lot and begins draining some nearby portable toilets, releasing an unbearable stench.
And suddenly it’s here -- that precious desert light, the light of pharaohs, painting the scrubby hillsides the color of pink terrazzo. It‘s that light you first see when you leave a stranger’s place in time to get to work, or when you‘ve kept out of the damp and gotten a little sleep under a patio table. The sunrise clarifies everything, banishes doubts, and signals that, in a few hours, the libraries and parks will open to those who need sleep. But most of all it gives everyone the confidence to walk with their own calm grandeur, believing, until the night, that everything will soon get better.