desert sunrise

desert sunrise
desert sunrise

Monday, May 23, 2016

Through The Looking Glass – Reflection On Direction

It’s marvelous how time weaves in and out of my everyday motions and when I become still, step back and really see what’s been created, I’m taken aback by the intricate pattern and perfection of it all.

If it weren’t for the becoming still and stepping back, I’d never truly appreciate how the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly ultimately intertwine and give birth to an outcome that’s as fine a work of art as any Picasso. 

Life cycles through in both delicate and brutal ways doesn’t it?

Anyway……we arrived at our summer volunteer destination Sunday, May 15th after a month of meandering through Oregon, mostly along the coastline.  The vast coastline landscape mimics the life cycles I just mentioned, changing from delicate to brutal in the blink of an eye, or should I say in the turn of the steering wheel?

Once again, Mother Nature reminded me how vast, and varied, Her kingdom is. 

We splurged on brewery beers, pub food, cheese factory specialties and seafood freshly harvested from the ocean we traveled alongside.  We even spent some time with Prescott friends Gary and Pat!  What a treat!  Ah, the delights of being a true tourist!

It was a busy journey, never settling in one spot for more than 3 days. 

Now it’s 4 ½ months of sitting still in wide open spaces. 

The pictures of our summer campground do it no justice whatsoever.   To the naked photo-viewing eye it looks barren, and quite honestly ugly, BUT what the pictures can’t properly capture are the mountain views which are magnificent! 

Each morning pronghorn antelope leisurely graze between campsites.  We’ve already seen moose loping across the sagebrush field within easy walking distance of our front door.  Water fowl and hawks of all types, flocks of geese, grouse and the eerie cry of Sandhill Cranes are part of our everyday lives now.

 And THE river, the Green River, a trout fisherman or fisherwoman’s paradise borders one side of this slice of high altitude, high desert space.  She roars, bank full, thanks to spring rains and snow melt.  As I look out my windows at the snow packed mountain peaks, I see there’s an abundance of snow melt yet to come. 

It’s raw here at 7,600 feet in May.  Winds scream through this flat between-mountain-ranges little campground.  We’ve already sat through heavy snow twice (that melted as it fell) and temps fell to 18 degrees last night. 

Part of me wants to run home to the warm sunshine of my Arizona home but the part of me that senses a life-shifting lesson waiting for me here steps up and coaxes my restless side to calm down and appreciate what’s to come. 

It’s time to be still and step back.

I have a very large blank canvas. 

The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly have been placed upon my palette.
All I have to do is pick up my brushes and begin my masterpiece. 

After all, there’s a little “Picasso” in all of us!

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