Dem Bones

There is a location in Tucson the locals call "the boneyard." I have no idea what its proper name is. It's a storage facility for military aircraft not currently in use. I saw a spot on it on Arizona Highways while I was over at my parents' house, just recently. So now I know odd bits of trivia. For example, it's not just where old airplanes go to die. They're being stored against future use.

Why Tucson? In the middle of the desert, metal doesn't rust. What's more, we have a phenomenon out here called caliche: it's a kind of a natural cement that forms not far beneath the topsoil. I mean, this stuff is so tough that if you've got to dig a hole through it, you need an airhammer. I'd never stopped to think, but that makes it a perfect place to park heavy aircraft without having to first pack and pave the area.

I drove by it yesterday on my way to do some out of town fixes. We've had so much rain recently that grass has sprouted everywhere. Even on the field that is the boneyard. Imagine all these aging military aircraft in their varying shades of grey and drab . . . in the middle of a grassy field.

"Where have all the graveyards gone?
Gone to flowers, every one."