We left the camping spot we had enjoyed here for six nights and went to the backcountry spot where we would spend the next six nights at Big Bend National Park. We stopped along the way for another permit, for gas, for ice, and for a dozen eggs.
It is a beautiful day, in the mid-60s, and sunny. We spent the afternoon just sitting and soaking it all in--the beauty, the solitude, the quiet. So much planning and effort to get this Zen feeling of being one with nature. We sat for hours, just looking at the hills and bluffs; Vicky knitting and me drinking the Italian red wine that I love so much and that she surprised me with when we got here--hiding it in the camper (no easy feat) just for this occasion of arriving to the site where we would spend Christmas. She's a keeper all right--it was a good decision yesterday to give her time to untangle her hair.
Our only conversations as we were sitting and feasting with all of our senses on this beautiful desert involved where we might go and explore tomorrow and discussions, few, reflecting on the sounds of nature--flies, grasshoppers, wind through the mesquite.
Tomorrow we hike. To see even more of this wilderness.
The next day it snowed.
And the wind blew at 20-30 mph, the temperature dropped to below freezing, and instead of hiking we huddled inside our camper. I thought I was back in central Illinois.
That is the other side of having a total connection with nature--it is an unpredictable beast at times. Something to marvel at and something to always be wary of.
Here is a photo 24 hours after the first one on this blog entry that showed us sitting and enjoying the mountains and sunshine:
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