Share

Click here for Part 1.

“Every man, every woman, carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the right place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary.” -Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

We make the cabin our true home for the night, supplementing dinner with what we’ve brought to share – salad, sauce, drinks, conversation, perspectives, music, connections, and paths. In darkness we find ourselves lying in the field watching the light parade of stars, jetliners, and cigarettes before we scatter for bed.

Sunrise brings another golden hour, a quick breakfast, and multiple last looks at the field before our ride arrives on schedule but all-too-early at 11am. Returning to our cars in Quemado, we exchange contact information and best wishes for easing back into civilization – New York, LA, Santa Fe, our crowded ports of reentry. As my friend and I drive back through The Narrows toward I-40, we pass the gravel shoulder where we stopped for lunch yesterday. It feels like a week ago.

“And then you have to leave.” -Geoff Dyer, The New Yorker

 

To Corey, Dave, Mary Katherine, McClean, Jessi. The Lightning Field 5/24/17-5/25/17. Word.

*