I’m jealous. Even though I spent a week in Saline Valley last month. The desert is very very dry this year. But, it’s a desert, after all. I always love it. Keep us posted - when you get back’ll be fine.
I’ve been reluctant to think about it, mainly because it really means life continuing. I keep thinking about my promise to Zeke never to leave him again, which I made when I canceled the trip my brother and I had planned last year because Zeke got sick the next week.
And then I rmember that I never did leave him again. But somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.
But the book must go on, and there is an implacable, heartless solace in that landscape which I must face.
I recently read a book called Desert sojourn: a woman’s forty days and nights alone, by Debi Holmes-Binney, and my fascination with the desert was rekindled.
Although the book doesn’t deal with much about the actual desert (other than facing her aloneness, etc.), I still found it intriguing. I’m not sure where I get this interest, but one day I must go to the desert. I live in Canada, and altho’ I never ventured to the desert areas in southern Saskatchewan, or in the badlands area of Alberta, for some reason, the Grand Canyon areas are drawing me.
I look forward to hearing about your journeying. And I can hear and empathize with your mixed feelings re. Zeke.
See previous comment - get thee gone, already! I know you have an ambiguous and testy relationship with Coyote, but methinks the old wise Dog of the desert is calling you for some healing. (Could be wrong, of course). All I know is, works for me.
I’m jealous. Even though I spent a week in Saline Valley last month. The desert is very very dry this year. But, it’s a desert, after all. I always love it. Keep us posted - when you get back’ll be fine.
I’ve been reluctant to think about it, mainly because it really means life continuing. I keep thinking about my promise to Zeke never to leave him again, which I made when I canceled the trip my brother and I had planned last year because Zeke got sick the next week.
And then I rmember that I never did leave him again. But somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.
But the book must go on, and there is an implacable, heartless solace in that landscape which I must face.
Joshua Trees!
We’re going back next week. Can’t stay away. I’m thinking it’s time to see the original of that “avatar” of yours.
I want to know if you see that desert tortoise again on the road to Area 51.
go. you didn’t leave zeke, and he will be your invisible side-kick on this trip, too.
Kiss it for me, tío.
I recently read a book called Desert sojourn: a woman’s forty days and nights alone, by Debi Holmes-Binney, and my fascination with the desert was rekindled.
Although the book doesn’t deal with much about the actual desert (other than facing her aloneness, etc.), I still found it intriguing. I’m not sure where I get this interest, but one day I must go to the desert. I live in Canada, and altho’ I never ventured to the desert areas in southern Saskatchewan, or in the badlands area of Alberta, for some reason, the Grand Canyon areas are drawing me.
I look forward to hearing about your journeying. And I can hear and empathize with your mixed feelings re. Zeke.
All my best!
Hey, it’s now next weekend, and you’re posting from your garden. Time to go.
See previous comment - get thee gone, already! I know you have an ambiguous and testy relationship with Coyote, but methinks the old wise Dog of the desert is calling you for some healing. (Could be wrong, of course). All I know is, works for me.