casting long shadows

It is hard to believe we let 3 years go by without returning here to this place which means so much to me, but we did. This camp site sits among the remains of Fort Simpson in the Simpson Range of Utah's West Desert. It rises above what was once a stop on the Pony Express Trail.  Desert fauna mingles with the grasses and reeds which give proof to the cold water spring below.  Twelve years ago I camped here with a closed head injury.  A head injury will change you.  Mine was a wake up call.

Since then this place has become my solid ground.  It is where my life started over. Being here reminds me of why I am.  From here I can see clearly.  I can read what pushes me to want to hide and make peace with it.  I can find the errors and enjoy the victories of time. Here is where I first became a real runner.  Here is where I let go of the dark side of my sister and her death.  Here is where I find what I need to move on.  Here is where I become better.

Beach popped out of the van and remembered nothing of here.  It was odd; she was 6 the last time we stayed but from her babyhood we must have camped here, in this very site 5 or 6 times a year up until we drifted south to Desert Mt, Judd Canyon, and points beyond.  Perplexed by her missing memories we explored past and present at the same time. 

We hiked and biked and I asked her questions about past trips, events, and holidays.  Most of the recall she had were second hand from photos or stories we have told her.  Her own past narrative is virtually an empty book.  I remember my life in living pictures from as early as 2 on so I was shocked to learn how shallow her memory is.  My other children have it, I got it from my dad; memories so vast and detailed often they seem a force all their own.

I figured things out here like realizing we should keep candy in the house, tamales are a damn good breakfast food, quiet is so loud it can hurt your ears, and how much I love BC. 

Each morning he and I make the journey out of camp and into the field to greet the sun creeping up the valley.

Even the way we make our way across the grasses is alien to the other; I zig-zag erratically chasing anything that catches my eye, he follows the slope steadily never moved from his course. 

Daily we work on translating our life for the other, like two stranded travelers finding each other in a strange land. When two people's sight is so different they can spend eternity falling into the depth of the other. Our love is like Beach's memory each day is a lifetime created of distance dust & energy from places we don't quite remember but have all gone into making us who we are. I see him and he seems so familiar and he tells me things I have never hear, he does things which amaze me, and by the time the day ends we have fallen in love, again.  We never spoke our vows we live them: to walk together for better or worse, in sickness and in health, through shadow and sunlight.    

Perhaps Beach's dim memory of her fleeting past was the best gift I never gave her.  I give you Now and I tell you to dream big.  I can't promise tomorrow will always come, one day the sun will shine a soul short but between the lines of light and dark are a million & one blades of golden grass to see.  A thousand paths to take or dismiss, and the beyond them all is chance, love, and laughter.  

If you have Now you have forever.