West Desert Journal

Going back in time,
the soft clouds rewind quickly
to those passed centuries.
The sky is glowing
and the power is sweet.
Here they come,
people moving across the land,
carrying their babes,
moving to lower ground
for the winter.
The sky is always turquoise blue,
and the junipers grow wild.
They travel passed the red cliffs
and head into the Black Ridge country
on their way to the land of the whipping sands.

Soft and vivid dream
quiet like the groves of cottonwood grandpas
swaying in the steady wind.
The wind pushes the billowing clouds
through traveling sky.
Locusts buzz.

Hear the whispers.
The passed is alive
in the dreamer’s dimension.
Listen to the faded voices of the passed.
The rocks still speak.
The sacred images tell stories.
Go to the pictures on the rocks
they have the power.
Soft spoken meadow lark sings.
Those cottonwoods are angels
translucent rain falls on their branches.
The old ones revisit the land
because they are not forgotten.
They are remembered.
Peace. Sweet intelligent peace.
In a living dream, the old ones speak.

I went onto the Arizona Strip last night about thirty miles south of Saint George. I am going to go to Toroweap again and visit that grand place! It?s the 60-90 miles of dirt road that hinders most people from going there. The more time I spend in that country, the more I crave a BLM job there. Last night, I was shooting some photos, and had jump from one location to another so quickly, it almost gave me whip lash! The lighting was constantly changing. I would rush to my car, peel out, and fly to another location, creating those rooster tales behind my car. Then, the gigantic, beige moon climbs from behind a dark red mesa after the sun had settled. The air was warm, and the colors of dusk were quite astounding.

There is too much beauty in life to take for granted. So when life seems heavy, stop for a moment to listen to the wind sifting through the pines, or the clouds rolling and tumbling in the sky. Earth is a peaceful sphere. The universe that she travels through is endless. Trillions of unknown things abide in space and we barely know a few. Be glad that the Creator has given us this dwelling place, with warm sunshine to fall upon us each day. The sky above us is turquoise blue, and that is something to be thankful for. The life that you move around in is a miracle. You are alive!

In my waking life, I move about like everybody else. I hear the
constant sounds of reality, but my mind is somewhere else. My hopes
are on a higher plane, like the lonesome eagle gliding on the wind.
Feeling very content, I can safely say that the world needs a change.
With all the loud things that plug up everyday life, severe isolation
tends to be very enticing to me. My dreams cannot compete with the
current trends of this society. I am here, but I am not really
here. It is more like I am praying for the current reality to end, and
for something else to take over. I want the silence to take over. You
know, that place in the wild where the clouds dwell? I’m
waiting, always waiting. I have plenty of patience…

As I am traversing up a windy canyon, I can see all the footprints of the little creatures that dwell in that canyon. I see the clouds and the sun, and feel Earth’s awesome beauty. If I could find a way to dwell in this place forever, I would.

In a dream, it came and spoke to me. Now when I’m awake, I cannot ever put the beauty down. It is in me, and I see the mystery in every sunset.

It is what happened long ago. The thunderclouds have been coming to this land long before the Mormons, and before the Mexicans. The Southern Paiute have always had their life ways, and they moved about this ancient place. Hundreds of generations have gone before me. This land is where I was born, and it is where I will die. It is the only land that I know about. I will never forget those before me though.

I watch the big earth movers tearing the ageless soil from it’s grave, and it hurts to see them digging into it. I don’t know why it hurts so much? But this is how I feel about the Colorado River being damned up too! For some reason, I think the Colorado River really feels trapped. She needs to flow with red water again. If the national park service can find a way to do that with the dams, then that would be good.

I constantly drive around the outskirts of Saint George, to look at all the latest ?development???, it is tearing me a part. It makes me sad, There’s nothing I can do to stop it. What hurts the most though, is the fact that they have to tear up the soil; removing it from where it belongs. Up in Cedar City, It makes me angry to see all the Juniper trees they uprooted to build houses in ?new??? areas. Those houses are costly. People don’t need to pay so much to build such things. This is America, and the developer is destroying the land that is most important to me.

I’ve noticed that there isn’t many places for the deer to go in the winter now. Their winter feeding areas are being invaded with these new houses.

Southern Utah is a beautiful place, and people are going to move in and change everything. It is okay for people to come here, but it’s the destruction that bothers me. They are changing the landscape, and the desert is filling up with people, noise, big box stores, cars, and houses. Pretty soon Saint George will become a big city.

I cannot understand why I feel this way, but something is going to stop all of the development. Maybe this is my emotions communicating with me, but something is going to change the American landscape. Something is going to end the occupation that is now over five centuries old. This urgent feeling is in my gut. Something is coming, but it will show up unexpected. I will awaken one morning to the sound of this change, and by golly, I hope it will preserve my life. Because I don’t want much except to be happy, be with my family, and have the rugged landscape to live in. I wait for those lights to go out. I’m trying to break the windows of everything I know.

The land is beautiful today.

I’m just happy today, for no real particular reason? Maybe things are changing here in the desert. There was still a cricket singing this morning, in November. This I could get used to, being at 2000 feet above sea level, in an ocean of red sandstone. Saint George has got the worst traffic in the state, but it is not a bad little community. For work, I’ve been taking tickets at all the basketball games over at the Burns Arena. I’ll be doing this unless I get the job at the gift shop.

Last night, I was feeling restless. I didn’t want to go to sleep. So I drove the Neon out west of Saint George, down old Highway 91 into the desert.

I don’t know what to write, but I have to force myself to write something on the computer. My old writing professor always said those who were serious about writing for a living or for a readership, they should write at least once a day, and fill at least one page. That is what I do. If I don’t write in this journal, then I write in the composition notebook. But I am going to try and put some creative stuff on here soon some essays.

I may be working in a tourist trap of a turquoise outlet pretty soon. The big cheese came closer to hiring me today. It is a decent atmosphere to work in. Chimes ring, native flute music plays in the background, and the roaring traffic of Saint George looms outside. I’m talking to the manager, just getting to know him one on one. I spoke with one of the fellow employees too. It turns out that she likes to rock-hound a lot. Neat! Anyways, I’ll see what happens. This will definitely beat the Lowe’s job I had before, where they were having me load boxes in the back warehouse every shift. They had hired me as a sales associate, but that wasn’t the case. In the end they were only giving me ten hours a week, max.

I feel like my life is passing me by. Yesterday I was eighteen, now I’m twenty-four. How did it happen so quick? Why am I madly in love with the desert? I love those shrub covered wastelands!

My uncle just went through a bitter divorce, and his wife hauled his children off to California, and so he’s trying to start over again. You would think I’d be grateful NOT to be married, but that isn’t the case. I’ve seen how lonely and destitute he has become without his family. How am I able to cope with being alone without a beautiful girl and family in my life? If any girl would ever have me, what would I do? Am I scared of commitment, or am I scared that I may hurt someone else because of my own selfishness? What girl is going to go off into the boonies with me and spend a lot of time doing this? Is there anyone more obsessed than I am? I’d hope they’d be the type waking me up before dawn, telling me to get my camping and hiking gear ready for a trip.

So I am lonesome, but not enough to get hitched anytime soon. I’m obsessed with the rugged wild, those places place off of the black top highways. Right now, I crave the Creosote covered stretches of the Arizona Strip. I would kill to have a park ranger, or BLM job, working in a god-forsaken wilderness. I’d move to Cliff Dwelling, Arizona, Population: 12! There’s nothing stopping me but my current situation, my reality. This is such a heartache to endure. Every day that I grow older, I see my life passing me. Every day that I am not in my Canyon Country is one day less that I have to be apart of it.

I am getting burned out on college life, though it is something I don’t mind. Knowing that my mom and dad read this blog, I am going to be careful about what I say. That is why I have an anonymous blog. I love my parents, but at the same time, I like some privacy.

I need a change. Maybe I’ll do some sheep herding this summer? When lambing season starts next spring, I may call the Burtons in Parowan and ask for some work… THINGS ARE MUNDANE, so I’m looking for interesting things to do. I’m looking for work here in Saint George and there’s a Southwestern gift shop that might hire me. The stress I feel comes from the fear of getting plugged in further. I don’t want to be the guy with the tie and brief case… I’d prefer being a hobo, adventurer, traveler! Maybe truck driving would be an option? The urge to drive everywhere is very, very strong. This is a nomadic urge. If I had my way, I’d live in New Mexico, Nevada, Arizona, and finally Utah. I’d migrate back and forth at certain times of the year and stay busy that way. The desert never stops calling me either, so I don’t know what to think anymore.

Then I think about America and all the blind faith people put into their leaders. They vote for lying politicians thinking that things will eventually change someday… People have persuaded me to vote, but if I don’t vote, maybe it’s a way to stop recognizing a currupt system of government. True democracy didn’t start with America. I put a sticker on my car of Geronimo and his Warriors, with a quote that reads; “The Original Homeland Security, Fighting Terrorism Since 1492!”