Gusty winds, brown-grey rabbits, and low plants like juniper and creosote and scrub oak. Where all the plants are out to prick and stick and poke and the tumbled rocks are irresistible and must be climbed and conquered.
It’s unbelievably beautiful, so much so that a feel a spiritual kindling inside. I think of the original and indigenous peoples who once called this inhospitable place home, who knew what every plant and bug and seed and root could be used for. It’s something we’ve moved so far from…
I know also, though, that I’m as moved as I am by this landscape simply because it’s such a marked departure from where we’ve been these past weeks since getting underway. As much as I’m acknowledging my own neurosis in saying so, the dramatic change of scenery just feels like progress.
We’re moving, things are changing. Soon there will be more desert and then mountains and then huge rivers to cross and we’ll be far, far away from California and truly gone.