Elevation
I’m 2 1/2 miles from the water tower and l’ve gained 1500 feet. I can see sagebrush sand and rocks, green and pink hued mountains. The sun is warm, not hot and though I drink a lot I’m not thirsty.
Silence? Not as much as you think as sounds reverberate from the city below. Although since there’s no one here to talk to I have to generate my own noise. I feel like an old refrigerator.There’s this whirring noise and then long periods of silence.
As I look out over the desert I don’t see Peter nearby. I know, I sound like Irene the psychic, but I just think he’s closer to home. Wishful thinking? Maybe, but that’s the only way Peter’s going to be found. There are neither hunters nor hikers or mountain bikers to stumble upon the man.
I have a heavy heart for Ken. Hard enough to be present with your parents when they die, but you have to face the hurt to process your own changes, to grow as a person. What would you do if your father just disappeared?
I love the sound of your voice, Hilary, you’ve always been one of the blogs biggest cheerleaders.
Ken’s heaviness will doubtless be allayed to some degree by the generosity of your attempt. But yeah, for some it would be utterly paralyzing …
Godbless.
Comment by Armchair posse — October 25, 2011 @ 3:25 pm
That desert feels exactly as I remember it from 40 years ago. There are no words for the isolation one feels when you can see and hear humankind a few miles away and know there is nothing but open arid empty space between you and them. For those hours one is lost to the world.
You and your friends are more connected in these moments than you and the Pahrump natives ……
Comment by John B — October 25, 2011 @ 4:24 pm
2-1/2 miles and 1500 foot elevation??!! Either must be somebody else reporting on the blog, or he finally found the shrooms and turned into a crow and flew up
Comment by Carlos — October 25, 2011 @ 5:19 pm