I slept so hard last night that when I woke it felt like I had risen from the dead. I could vaguely make out the lands I’d visited, the lives I’d lead, they felt so deep and so old.
It’s cold and gray this morning. I have a little heater but boiling water for coffee warms the van up pretty quickly and I know it’s going to get colder this week so I’m trying to “steel myself” Buck up and tough it out! Lol.
I’m camped at a small lake in southern Arizona. I usually like coming here. Have found some beautiful spots around the lake but this time may be the last. Things change. There is no camping on the edge of the lake anymore though there are a couple of spots still open, they’re always occupied and somewhat remote. When I camp alone I like to at least see other campers in the distance. I have never shed my NYC state of vigilance.
My first night out I hoped to camp at an old spot of ours. The one in the header picture with the labyrinth but it was occupied. Damn those people! How dare they! And so on. The next morning on my walk I found not one but two labyrinths! Both excellent camp sites. I could hear the Universe “you want a labyrinth? Here you go! Quit your whining!” My Universe voice is a Joe Pesci type.
I feel so lucky to be able to get up and go whenever the mood strikes. I get restless and need to change my enviornment and routine even though I love both my little nest and my daily rituals. It doesn’t take much to reset. A few days on the road usually does the job.