I am a Desert Woman Wannabe
A year ago I was in Arizona, taking this picture at the almost-edge of a 5,000 foot drop into Tuweep Canyon. I was experiencing the canyons and the high desert for the first time. And I loved it. The desert grabbed me and has not let go.
I live in the northeast. I live in a land of winters and allergies and traffic and pavement and people and cities and pollution and night skies without all the stars.
This land, this urban life, no longer fits me. It is like a shoe that has a worn out patch that is causing an irritation.
I am on-hold here, spinning my wheels ever more slowly.
Yet I have obstacles to moving -- chief among them is fear. Oh sure, I can hold up some health issues and some life-task issues that are real, but under-girding them is the fear of making the move into the unknown -- just because I feel it is the right thing to do.
I am such an independent person, so used to stepping out in general, that my current fear both embarasses and mystifies me. So I will expose it to the sun and to your scrutiny and will see what happens.
Look, here are the Chirchauhua Mountains. Are they not splendid?
And so I ask you in the nebulous space of the internet who may be happening by these words to say a prayer or wish a wish for me and for all others who have the cinderblocks of fear attached to our ankles.