Depressed

I'm depressed again.  Moab, you are my Prozac.  A rainy day with you is better than all the sunny days here.  It won't be long til we are re-united.

Carlita

Comfy, Carl cruises carefree through the countryside on his chromo-coach, Carlita.

Tea

Every day we struggle for sanity
Oh the humanity
Oh the scale of vanity
Fuck Sean Hannity

Loneliness

I can't remember the last time I felt lonely.  I value what little solitude I'm allowed and seek its increase on an almost constant basis.  It's rare that I ever feel a lack of companionship.  Some of that could be attributed to the fact that I'm married, have a kid and live in the city.  If I had been raised in small town and lived on a farm, would I value society more or is this just who I would have been regardless of circumstance?

This week I encouraged my wife to take advantage of the time off she had from school and travel to see family down south.  She gave in and took the little rugrat as well, so it's just Sadie and me at home for the last three days.  We've become quite good friends this month.

I could have gone out to run around with friends, making up for all the times I 'had to stay home and babysit.'  Instead I opted to stay home and enjoy the solace.  I worked on some bikes, watched some movies... Sadie and I went for some good walks in the dead of night around the neighborhood.  I really like overcast winter evenings.  The light can't be matched at any other time of the year.   I need to get a tripod so I can capture it 'on film'.

My home is an odd place to be alone.  Unlike the wild places I often venture to, its almost always occupied by at least one other person.  It's a little eerie when it's empty.  It was a little hard to fall asleep and the house definitely feels too big for just one person.  But other than that these past three days have been very relaxing.  It's been a nice little respite from the usual routine, but I am excited to see the ones I love again.

  

In search of sunlight

(From my journal Dec 18th)
Moab, Decemeber...  Decembrrrrr... 2011.

It's cold and dark in the desert., but not too cold or too dark.  It's quite bearable in fact and even darn right pleasant.

Last night it was mid-20's, today mid-40's.  Cold enough to keep most folks away...  Just the way I like it.  This has probably been the quietest few days I've ever known.

The sun rises late in the morning.  He too has a hard time getting up this time of year.  He too can't seem spread as much warmth.  He seems rather passive...  Counter-intuitive to his reputation as "the ruthless desert sun."

Wise men don't criticize him for it though.  They know he's just distracted, a little worn out even.  Spending time with those in the southern hemisphere.  He's not lazy, it's just that there's only so much he can do at once.  His job is his and his alone.  There's no one to assist him in his duties...  I bet he's lonely.

This morning Sadie and I slept on hilltop so we cold be with him later (and earlier).  He was welcome company.  I can only hope we returned the favor. For now we're enjoying the best the big yellow plasma ball in the sky has to offer.  Sunning ourselves like lizards on the Entrada sandstone.  150 yards away from the petrified paw prints of our long-necked, quadruped ancestors and just 50 ft from the border of Arches National Park.

Rocks.  Perhaps they love the sun the more than any other and they seem to absorb it best too.   They basque in its' warmth every second they can.  Like the sun, they are not selfish.  They share freely the warmth they are given to anything that may enjoy the calming heat.  You'll not see them shed their leaves in protest of the inevitable shift in attention either.  Simple and pure gratitude.

Ravens too love the sun.  Their black feathers, eyes, and beaks.  Even their feet are designed to absorb as much of it as they can.  They flap and soar in the subtle winter thermals.  Their wings making sound of a dog, panting when it's hot.

"Honk, honk."  they call to each other.  They do not "kaw" like some might believe.  That is a work of fiction which the bird does not regard.  Instead, I like to think they have more a mind for Uncle Abbey.

MOAB

"There's nothing that the road cannot heal."




My seasonal depression has arrived right on schedule and there's only one cure:

I'm going to a land of mysticism and romance,
of monoliths and moonbeams.
A place called Moab.
To dance with the lizards and coyotes.
With the stars in the heavens and a fire at my feet.
To commune with the desert,
to breath.

Alone in the Wilderness: Dick Proenenke

The irony of watching a documentary like this, on the television (in a house in the city no-less) is not lost on me. In fact, watching something of this nature does little to exorcise the demons that fester in my mind.  Quite the opposite really.  And still...

Maybe one day, I'll stop idolizing those that live this way and finally venture out on my own.  For now it's just a maybe.