5/24/21 I wrote this piece 11 years ago. I still live in this same place and have come home to stay. The night sky is still dark and even last night the coyote spoke to me, waking me from my slumber in my camper with the door left open to the night. The bed in the house will be vacant until winter returns, I prefer the outside and my feral nature requires it. Some things will never change.
May 20, 2010
Indian Divide, New Mexico
I have become much as some feral creature, reliant on the silence for my safety and my peace of mind. Just as I am drawn to the complete darkness which can only be found when the moon rises late and only stars light the sky, so I find comfort in the same. Is this what pulls me to the Plains of San Agustin, making even my own familiar haunt a questionable shelter? Sure this is still my home but I am pulled away from it by some new temptation, a memory of something more which cannot be replicated here for it was stolen away many years ago. I am civilized, yes, but my deeper spirit calls for release and she languishes in the shelter of my soul. She gazes out but squints at the bright lights across the highway. She craves the dark silence that only the remote places can offer her.
What of those dark silent nights along the highway, so many years ago? I was hitchhiking through Montana and Wyoming, crossing the Great Divide where I made camp on the roadside in the trees and was as far removed from all I had known as I had ever been in my lifetime. Ah yes, she was a feral creature then as well, most especially when she was curled deep in her sleeping bag hidden from the world but equally so when she stood beside the roadway and waited for a ride. She still speaks to me, as do the canyons and the coyotes which call me off in the same way as those long narrow chasms do when I pass through remote places. I must wonder if they will release me and allow me to return!
Silence, it surrounded me late last night when I returned home, and once again in the darkness when I stepped back out my door. The chill is unnoticed at such times when the glow of the Milky Way is splashed across the sky and the breeze is but a whisper. The night birds chirp softly and the owl calls, waiting for an answer. When I am truly blessed there will come along a solitary howl of a coyote from some far canyon……….calling me home. I am done with all the rest it seems even as I try to cling to some sense of convention. I am struggling with it now. The pull of the wilderness has always been there and it draws me away but this is different, deeper and more solemn, more important than it was in the past for it is a pure element of my survival. As the material things matter less and less so I am pulled further away from them and all that is required for their attainment. What was nearly lost is once more found and abounds in the silence which surrounds me.