Solitude.
Connection.
Solitude.
Connection.
Save for the spotty cell reception at the mouth of this antique waterscar canyon there is no middle ground. It's only one. Or the other.
Today I choose solitude.
Maybe tomorrow it will be connection.
Loneliness. Human nature. It always brings me back to them.
Them.
The people.
My people.
Out here I am alone.
No people.
Wide open space. Another planet. This planet. My planet. Ours.
A stinkbug rolls by all fancy with his lifted back end and matte black paint job.
Red ants play salsa music, hot hot hot on the red rocks, now you see 'em, now you don't, don't sit on the trumpet player or he'll blow it out your ass.
A raven passes overhead, snatches a peek at the astronaut before letting the wind wash him away into the blue cosmos.
It's been forever. A thousand hours. A day. I can't remember.
I breathe in to see if I'm still alive.
I am alive.
I am!
I am ever so, very much, alive.
One more day.
One more day, scared, alone, trekking and rolling across this exotic planet.
One more day, thrilled, free, wild.
Tomorrow, maybe a shared smile. Conversation at a gas station. A joke, a laugh, between strangers.
Today, now, palms over rock faces, hands and souls filled with pebbled sand, and sing, oh sing!
to the desert before me.
Photos taken in San Rafael Swell in Utah, at the mouth of the astounding Wedge.
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