Child's Play

As global climate change envelopes our airways in plastic and Trump faces an impeachment trial, as  fires decimate Australia and Coronavirus segregates us, I've been falling in love, rather unexpectedly.
I've been given a precious gift: the time and resources to explore this country, my adoptive land,  rekindling my passion to fight for it, our planet.

It's challenging to be empathetic to nature in front of a computer. I would look outside, see the red Salvia blooming, beckoning the iridescent hummingbirds, but I couldn't hear them and I couldn't smell the Angel Trumpet sidling nearby. I longed for the taste of winter greens profusely growing in my vegetable boxes, despite my neglect, but I was too busy making lists, producing and cleaning, running out of time.

As I embarked on this journey, I decided no lists would be made, no watch would be worn, no calendar would be created. I would practice omitting the words "should " and "have to." It's a process. It's imperfect. It's an unfolding of going inside to check when I'd like to eat, sleep, wake, hike, nap. I have been able to sleep 8, 9 even 10 hours. If you really knew me, you'd know that this is unfathomable. I've hardly slept more than 6 hours in my California life, never dreamed, woke up startled with an impossible to-do list that grew exponentially, daily. I dream nightly now. I believe my adrenals are happier. Remembering how stressed I was when I owned my business, lived in fear of it crumbling by lawsuits, disgruntled employees, dissatisfied clients, rapid turns and twists of the industry. Today, my internal, nagging, persistent fears dissipate into the vast landscape. I am Lilliputian in my significance under this immense sky, these formidable mountains. It feels like a walkabout.

Meandering in Saguaro National Park in New Mexico, I am awed by the harsh, dangerous, relentless and captivating desert landscape. I walk gingerly with Gingi, my cat, holding my knife, comically, really. My senses as alert as they can be at dusk, waiting, anticipating coyotes, mountain lions, rattlesnakes. It's a daily juggle between wanting my feline to be free amidst the lizards, the Ocotillos, the Palo Verde and a different dread, that of being prey in a land so unfamiliar. The Saguaros stretch their arms in prayer, their "private parts" erect or Madonnaesque perky. I wonder how the Native people have survived here: what did they eat, how did they stay warm as the temperature dipped into the 20's, the days furnaced into the 120's. The space is mind-boggling; Oceans and oceans of tundra, mountains and mountains that climb higher, peaked and sloping, russet, magenta, bright white, neon green, pendulous, curvaceous, unabashed boners; the cacti variegated hot pink, purple, sage green prickly with thorns, ever warning: not for you!

We continue to White Sands National Park and the terrain transforms into an ocean of white waves of gypsum undulating in the breeze, falling, dancing, inviting us to sled. It's spectacular against the bluish-purple mountains, the sky a panorama of puff, clouds roiling by stark white, light gray, ominous, heavy, dark rotund, rain-filled. I buy a hot-green sled from a guy and we head to the slopes, my inner 4 year old, breathless, excited, demanding: faster.
My legs pump up the hills. It's easier than snow. I don't sink. On top of the crest, the valley on the other side spreads languidly, but my 4 year-old is on a mission.  I try what seems to be a promising hill, but, alas, the grade is not steep enough. I spot a more radical slope and run to that one. Previous sledders have impressed a trail on that slide already. Rachel's camera is at the ready. I scream all the way down - all 7 seconds. Then, like a teletubby, I yell; "Again, again!"
Fat, drooling drops send us scurrying to our rig, laughing, snorting, satisfied. I had forgotten the reckless abandon of child-play and I am determined to bring it back and remember.

Onward to Carlsbad Caverns in Southwestern New Mexico we went. There is a magic, a mystery, an unanticipated surprise in coming upon a natural wonder not having read or heard anything about it. These caverns blew my mind! I had never seen anything like them. If the Spanish artist Gaudi had a threesome with a venerable Thai temple and an Indiana Jones set, their baby would be this marvel. Hundreds of miles of drapes, lions' tails, chandeliers, crevices, caves, holes and pools, drippy monster-like shags, toothy faced animals, whipped-like cream, oozing, shimmering, stalagmites and stalactites in audacious halls met our incredulous eyes and breathless lips. Stunningly speechless, a rarity, I was.

One cannot experience all of these wonders and not want to create as well, so I had to write. I had to photograph. I'm not making a list, but maybe, at some point, somewhere on this astonishing journey, someone would be moved to paint or draw or collage...Just sayin'...