12.17.2007,9:01 AM
Winter in Big Bend: Chapter 1. Ephemeral.
“It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.” - Marcus Aurelius

No place like the desert reminds one of how ephemeral or evanescent life is. Those who deny it, ignore their own existence in this world. Perhaps this is one reason why I love the desert; it reminds me of my, our, mortality. A place where names, money, race, creed, status, fashion, all of what we strive for here in our busy bustling cities and urban centers......don't matter. All that matters is staying alive. Perhaps that is why I feel so alive. Where the obscurity that I prefer when amongst the throngs of living human masses is everywhere I turn.

I yearn for the companionship of the desert and mountains over that of the crowds of humanity that I've lived in the last several years. Where I see and hear the truth, as harsh as it may be, in the plants, animals and weather. Where time passes by a different clock, the tick tock of nature.

No watches, no cell phones, no power. The only reliance, the one compromise, is the fossil fuel that powers my bike. Just as if I had harvested flesh and
plants to feed on, water to wash and drink, I give kudos to eons gone by and civilization that formed and processed the fuel to power my bike. So that I can visit the deserts and mountains, lakes and rivers, valleys and canyons. I work and pay my pittances so that I may find solace in the sun rises and sunsets in these places. Until I can leave this all behind and live in those places I call 'home'.

Soon I leave for nine days as a desert rat on a bike.


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