Archives for June 2005

The Survivor

A soft spoken meadowlark
moves from a fence post,
up into a Blue Spruce…
This spruce is growing in the desert!
It doesn’t look like other steepled evergreens.
It’s all bent out of shape
growing right up from the sage.
It stands alone.
Where’s the others?

An Introspective Ramble

I’m the old prospector who never found gold, but fell in love with the wild. My home is out there in the wild, where I discovered quiet.

I don’t claim to know everything, but it is my desire to remain uncertain about a lot of things. This allows me to be more open-minded to the perspectives of others. When I write about the landscape, I focus on the images that I see, or remember, and record how I feel.

Before this blog, I was writing in paper journals. Writing is something I appreciate, even if it were for me. I am trying to write more for my readers. Albeit, this is a record of my life. Even if I don’t write about my life directly, I write about the things that seem to be the most important.

So I focus on wilderness; it seems to influence me most, because the isolation carries such profound meaning, yet it cannot be understood. The wilderness is where I discovered quiet, and I want to become apart of it. I’m lucky to have West Desert Journal to write about the most striking things, like a powerful rainstorm in the middle of nowhere.

For a while I have pondered the idea of being more bold and opinionated in my words, but then, I don’t want to piss people off. There are certain things I could write about that would achieve this type of response. That wouldn’t get me any closer to the quiet things in life. When I was naive, I wrote whatever came to my head. I was so effective that a few individuals referred to me as the next Unabomber! That was offensive, but it made me realize that I had potential. I’m more like a badger who wants to be left alone in his den, until some uninvited predator draws near.

I was born in Salt Lake, but I consider myself a country boy, raised early on in Southern Utah. I’m not quite an Environmentalist, but then I love countering the anti-environmental culture that festers in Southern Utah, especially among ranchers. I have an affinity for the animosity of those old-timers, because they are so rugged and true.

I grew up in cow-towns that were full of spoof cowboys who dressed like them. Then there were the real cowboys who had ranches. I’ve shepherded, but I am far from being the real thing. I stay true to myself, and the red desert that I love to roam.