Hundred Miles of Dirt Road

I have the day off. There’s twenty dollars in my wallet and a car waiting for the desert’s wiry dirt roads. The desert is calling. Mental images of the land are dancing in my head.

When we journeyed across Parowan Valley, past the alfalfa fields, and ranches; large numbers of ravens were everywhere. They were gathering in different locations. But they were bunched in large groups. Some looking like they numbered in the hundreds. What were they up to? Were they getting ready to travel somewhere? Even in the dead of winter, the ravens are always at home on the landscapes of Southern Utah.

The West Desert is sweating, even in the autumn’s heat. Something is calling me to venture into the Unknown. The simplicity and isolation sing to my senses. The simple silence speaks between Mother Earth and Sky. It’s the fact that I am alone, free to move, and free to be happy without restraint.

You never know what paths you may cross, nor lessons learned. Strange things manifest themselves where loneliness lurks. The desert is sentient and aware of my soul.

So today, that old car will travel a hundred miles of dusty roads, towards the heart of old ghost towns, sage, and thunderous dreams. Places that can only be found in mystery, where wild horses still roam the mountain ranges!