As per usual, it’s amazing how much effort it takes to get out of our house and on the road. Friday night is a stew of small business bloopers, last minute packing and shipping until the printer breaks down and elusive down jackets that refuse to be found but we finally make it out the door and half way to our destination by midnight. I don’t mind driving long distances when I have my entire family in the car with me, though Farley does get annoying when he repeatedly asks:
HOW MUCH FURTHER?
We are, of course, headed for Arches National Park just outside of Moab, Utah in what I believe to be one of the prettiest parts of Red Rock Country in the American Southwest. The land and sky there bleed color and texture and I’m always fit to be tied with inspiration for the duration of my stay.
This is high desert.
Cold in the winter with occasional accumulations of snow.
Hot and thirsty in the summertime.
The sticky velvet of the sandstone absorbs the heat and color of the sun and as far as the eye can see it’s an oasis of vermillion studded with towering stone formations carved by sun, rain and wind; staunch sentries of high desert wilderness spelt out in smooth curves against azure sky.
Every time we visit I get a little high on color, texture and vitamin D.
RW puts up with a lot of tireless, wild gallivanting and questioning from me. He’s a saint to put up with my antics but this is one particular place where I feel imbibed with energy. Perhaps it’s the direct sunlight. But I think it’s the spirit of the place filling me up, winding me up and setting me free. I stretch my wings. I glide and glint in the sun. I’m intensely greedy for warm updrafts.
It all begins when I roll the windows down in the car and let the red dust of the the Southwest mingle with my skin and trap itself in my hair. Never mind making a place a destination, to fully experience Red Rock Country, you’ve got to become one with it. That means turning a bit red with the grit of the place and attempting to immerse oneself in the depth of the wildness of the world instead of simply treading softly through it. I take myself off the trails and bend low to study mouse tracks in the fine red silt. I hide behind the creosote on my hands and knees and stare into the cold eyes of small lizards. I lay on my back and let my worries erode; the wind shapes me into a smooth pillar and carves away at the callouses on my heart and soul. I’m pink and freshly scrubbed, younger than ever and the ravens leave their footprints at the corners of my eyes.
We drive the car fast around stone structures and crimson monoliths until we arrive at the ultimate destination.
We clap for the bride and groom we came to support. I think about how amazing it must feel to have been married in such a pristine place, beneath a wide arch of stone, with a winter breeze coldly whispering over faces and hands. I think about how this place could be considered the root of their journey together as a couple. They’ll weather time and all that comes with it (wind, ice, rain, sun) and still they’ll stand firm and develop more character as the years pass, etched in place by love and the elements…
…just like the window in the rock.
Red Rock Country acts as a portal for my imagination.
I come away with more luggage than I brought; my small bag containing spare socks, toothbrushes and a book becomes duffel bags full of wonder, creativity, ideas, concepts, dreams…because the view from here is endless and even when the sky gives terra firma a thin lipped kiss I know the world is stretching beyond what I can see and the red rock will fall away into low desert flats and then it will roll up into foothills and then down to the ocean and then across seas, plains, cliffs, ice, tundra, forests, lakes, hills and so on until my gaze is centered on my own back having come full circle on a straight vector of flight around our world.
OH TO SEE THAT FAR.
Horizons piled up on horizons.
Opportunities pressed into dreams.
Realities lifted up in flight.
Red stone warmed with potential.
Dreams realized and hopes cast out once more into the wind that wends
through infinite skies.
Things don’t end.
Possibility knows no end.
And sometimes it takes a trip to Red Rock Country to remember.
Until I return, I press my palms against
the art of the earth, the art left behind and the warmth of the stone.
I carry it with me.
I carry it lightly.
Red stone. Cinnabar heart. Vermillion dreams.
Your words are more beautiful then the photographs–which are not without allure.
Beautiful photos and as always you have such beautiful words to tell the story…
I was in Moab years ago, in the hot sticky summer, with a group of base Jumpers. I remember laying on the hot rocks, the hot sun on my skin, and watching the blue sky and puffy clouds over the rocks, and all the tiny lizards running around… You brought back some lovely memories for me, Thank you 🙂
your pictures are hauntingly beautiful, I have traveled the red rock mesas, they burn in my soul.
jsl i have no words. amazing photos, incredible words. xoxo from me to you 😉
My husband and I drove across UT on our way from CA to NE. We were so close to Arches – wish we would have had time to stop. It was such a beautiful drive on a perfect day. We were listening to the Dead with the sunroof open and I cried a lot even though I wasn't sad.
I spent my 30th birthday in Arches with my beloved Poppy two years ago – I know there were several vistas that burned themselves forever into my brain: you posted a picture of one of them.
I love your soul and I cannot wait to see you in Feb.
xoxoxo,
Allison
Such beautiful sentiments. Thank you for sharing this piece of your heart.
Jillian, you have captured in your prose this impossible to describe place…I think for me, Arches, is my spirit home…when I have been there, I have been unable to let go of the rocks…this place speaks to me like no other…..you have painted the most true-heart picture of what it is like there…merci!
I am thinking of all of those wavelengths captured and not by all those molecules…all those atoms reverberating with joy so we could enjoy.
Love the pics..thanks for sharing…kisses to Farley, and RW is one lucky dude!
Happy ThanksGIving week!
xx
Lucky couple! That's a wedding to remember for sure!
What are those paintings on the wall near the last pic Jillian? They look so inviting.
Beautiful!
and odd, it looks SO warm there I can almost feel the sun on my face. Lovely pictures to lift a gray and dreary day here.
🙂
these are absolutely lovely! i've always wanted to visit Moab. perhaps looking at these pictures will keep me satisfied as the semester wraps up here in the midwest? although, i feel even more strongly the sense to adventure west… is it summer yet?
Oh Mrs, this brought tears to my eyes. The sheer majesty and beauty of the place, your soulful words.. Thank you, always, for sending my heart strings aflutter.
My pleasure:)