This entry was originally written in my journal during a regional geology trip to West Texas from March 12-19, 2011. For the complete list of regional geo blog posts, click here.
day 7: Big Bend Ranch State Park
It’s hot.
But the desert at night cradles me, whispers to me, teases me with the promise of sleep. The moon is so bright it’s hugging me, pulling me close, promising that no ill will befall my makeshift camp in the dark. I am contorted between pebbles poking my back, angled just so to avoid the thorns of plants I still cannot name. The wind sings, distantly off-key, not enough to be unsettling, but enough to keep me from sleep. I roll and turn, and I think that if I lived here as people were meant to, tonight I could rise up and walk silently to nowhere, feeling the moon with me the whole way there. I dream of living, ignoring my need for water, the technical fibers that keep me warm on night less hospitable to human life. I want to sit silent forever, staring eternity in the face. I want to run and scream and laugh with the wind as it calls out to me. I want to never, ever forget that this is possible. I want to live knowing this is the most real my life will ever be.
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