last sunset here in the desert. the best one yet.
the past few days we’ve had a heat wave here. translation: consistent temperatures above 100 degrees for the bulk of the day (more like 105/106) and no clouds to help.
it’s been a rather humbling experience. I’ve talked about how in the past through my travels I’ve realize just what an animal I really am, that realization being born of Yellowstone’s late-fall cold and having days where the only thing I’m focusing on it generating heat to stay warm.
obviously here it’s the opposite, but no less humbling. I’m an animal and this heat oppresses. there is no A/C to escape into at the cabin, my defense is the rattlesnake shower and a freezer that struggles to make ice quickly enough.
so I just sit and wait. I sweat. I wish for sleep, but the heat makes that impossible too. and then, at 7:30, the sun drops behind the horizon and I feel like I can breathe again.
but today it’s broken. and I’m sitting on the porch and it’s only 95 degrees and there are clouds and the breeze is semi-cool.
hard to believe, but it’s been a month and tomorrow I leave the cabin and the desert.
this hasn’t been my most sharing month as far as the blog goes - it’s a lot different when you just sit. a lot less obvious wonder to report upon, although the wonder definitely exists in profound ways.
no, this was a month of quiet, of reflection and writing and meditating. of shifting my days with the weather’s whims (yes, even a forecast that is 92 degrees, pure sun and varying levels of wind day upon day gives you tremendous variety if you are sitting in it), learning when the birds come out and where they go. oddly engrossing.
tomorrow I moto into LA and start the prep to get Brünnhilde home. then to Florida to reunite with my truck the Black Wolf, and then a meander back to the big city.
heading home, but I think this desert will stay with me.
THERE IS A RATTLESNAKE IN THE SHOWER.
racing across a flat desert valley, mountains loom on both sides. cracked homes and cracked rocks scattered around, both beaten into the landscape by wind and sun.
two stops for gas, two breaks to drink a bottle of water, two random and wonderful conversations with perfect strangers.
taking my fear of riding curves head on and heading up the hills. temperatures drop, brilliant blue lakes, carefree boats and children and deep green pines… nothing like the desert below. I smelled the wet in the air. it’s been awhile.
back through the valley, the whipping winds creating an ugly dance with Brünnhilde and I. but we made it.
Why Biking 7,000 Miles to Patagonia is Essential for Creative Living | Global Citizenship on GOOD -
I read this blog post yesterday and I agree with so much of what the author writes about.
many, many times in the past year or two I’ve struggled with this bitch of an instinct to stay on the outside of my industry. it’s not always easy - I’ve watched my friends advance in the way that I always thought I would, have woken up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because I’m terrified the money will stop coming in and groaned at the monthly health insurance bill. I don’t know what I’ll be doing in a month, I don’t know where the paycheck will come from or if something horrid happens to me how I’ll manage. I just have to give it to the universe and have faith.
(super fun for a recovering control freak like me)
yet despite working with some great people and great companies, there’s something in me that won’t let me go back in (yet or ever? not sure about that yet).
reading this blog post, especially the last four paragraphs, put some words to that bitch of an instinct.
it’s a ridiculously beautiful morning here.
I’m sitting on the western facing porch, the breeze is soft and best of all, the air is so clear today that all the distant mountains are just stunning in their detail.
and then it’s going to get to a high of 100 degrees later. cue Heidi meltdown.
zomg, within the hour of killing the suspected desert recluse spider in the cabin I went to the outhouse to discover a black widow perched in her web AGAIN. this time I spared her no mercy and smashed her with the Lysol container.
my karma is screwed. cue retaliation spider brigade storming my abode. or maybe nature is going to go next level on me and rouse the rattlesnakes.
in my defense, google image search “brown recluse bite” or “black widow bite”. #justsayin’