February Desert

January was the month of Cascadian snowshoeing.  February is the month of Southeastern desert.  We intentionally fled two hours out of town for short spurts when I had the rare of occasion of a day off.  The desert is full of s p a c e.  The sky and the land meet at one clean horizon line.  We sat in the warmth of the springs from the earth and felt the sun with those Scottish/Oregonian hills and mountains in the distance.  I tried to capture the gradient of the sky, pulling off on the side of the road after we passed dozens and dozens of jack rabbits scampering by the road.  

Someone recently told me that I have 

the 

right 

to 

take 

up 

space.  

May I take up that space and use it well, and you, too. 

Often we think of the wilderness as "out there," yet we all live in the wilderness - some areas of just more populated and built on than others.  It may be more the world of humans that distracts us from that nature - the chatter of who the next bachelorette is (what?!), work stress, family drama, politics.  There is that quote though, something about needing to spend time in the mountains in order cope with the world of people - escaping the chatter to reset and re-center.  There is something about staring into the mountains that gives my mind permission to rest.   

Jens Lekman has a new album, Life Will See You Now.  I'm just listening to it on repeat until I memorize the words:

To have a dream
A GPS in your heart
A path to follow
Through the dark
Well, Jens says, "I write songs sometimes
But they're kinda bad
So if that doesn't work out
I want to be a social worker just like my dad
I just want to listen to people's stories
Hear what they have to say"
My friends say, "Just be a shrink then"
But I don't know, I don't think I'll have the grades
But in a world of mouths
I want to be an ear
If there's a purpose to all this
Then that's why God put me here

(To Know Your Mission)

Another favorite, Hotwire the Ferris Wheel.  

We went out for breakfast yesterday morning, and sat by the fire pit while waiting for a table, me sipping on my coffee and Baileys.  The logs were smoldering and the fresh juniper scent was steaming up through the top.  Though we may live in the wilderness, we don't always get to see it.  There is something about the smell of smoke in my hair that reminds me what life is all about.