Fall Equinox

I sensed the changing intensity of the sun's rays as we set off on our trail run yesterday. Not only from the double rainbow in the west, but I was able to run comfortably in the late morning. It was as if five pounds were lifted off me. The sun wasn't hot. I even carried a rain jacket and wore a pumpkin-color long sleeve tee-shirt. Orange, or any derivative of that color, is my favorite autumn shade to wear. Seasons do dictate what I wear, when I'm active, where I go and even the food I consume.
Tis the season to eat and eat and eat..vegetables. Our prolific garden has yielded peppers, tomatoes, squash, potatoes, and of course, pumpkins. Chop, peel, cook, freeze are my dominating activities lately. I appreciate the abundance, but not all at once.
It was the SUDDENNESS or impatience that surprised me during this fall equinox day. There were early clues: Aspen trees on Boulder Mountain freckled with gold, sunrises and sunsets arrived later and sooner, the flies disappeared, I shut my bedroom window at night. Autumn in the desert wants to be noticed.

Fall Reflection

I wore heavy eye-liner last night under my Scream costume. It's been over a year since I've even applied make-up. I'm noticing patterns or developing them since moving to Escalante full-time. Our guests are booking fall and springtime reservations for La Luz Desert Retreat months or a year in advance. Sometimes the weather isn't as predictable. Last October the rains came at the end of the month. This October the warm Indian summer is happening now. I'm still shaving my legs so I can wear shorts in the daytime. Frost hasn't softened the outside pumpkins. I am waking up before sunrise and witness the sky change colors.


Our garden has gone from bare ground to a jungle of produce. The remaining dry corn stalks rustle in the breeze, scaring up some thoughts of the upcoming Day of the Dead, Halloween, evening. We have more local friends to celebrate seasonal closures.

We've explored new wild areas where no trails exist, places we want to remain untrampled by the masses, territories where I've wondered if anyone else has dared (or want) to venture. There is 1.7 million acres of National Monument to roam and few identifiable trails for tourists to explore. Only the brave and foolish get off the well-marked paths. Not knowing where you are can lead to discovering who you are--one with all.

When I leave the city of Escalante, I'm excited to purchase luxuries, see a movie, eat someone else's cooking, see new sights. The crowds and the tainted air can be challenging to tolerate. I come back home with my goodies and no cosmetics.