Short of Crazy

Well, I left Southern Utah, and I didn’t think I could. I left those familiar surroundings behind. My family is back in Utah, and I have no relatives in Northern Arizona. It has finally become quiet in my life. What I become absent from, I grow fond of. But my patience is strong, and I love a new start. If the good old AZ becomes my home, then so be it.

My junk car cannot go off this mountain, because I’m afraid it wouldn’t make it back up. There is the desert below, that I want to see. There are things that I envision; simple things like clouds shadows passing over dark red mesas; whirl winds traveling across long empty landscapes. The desert is calling me, and it would drive me insane if I allowed it. But I am controlling the passion of wanting to be there physically. For now the landscape paints images in my head and in my dreams at night. I wake up in the morning, and look into the sky, as it comes through the window. I watch the nimble clouds traveling passed the square opening..

There is a nothingness that I crave; to simply hear the grind of my motor, and my wheels traversing down some isolated country road. I’d like to be fishing, with my shoes off, below a shady cottonwood. As the clouds slowly floated above, I’d listen to the muddy water flow restlessly, but gently.