After spending five days with pines and aspen and damp earth, coming back to the desert was a harsh change, but it definitely felt like home (thanks, New Mexico, for being consistently hot and dry). The sky opened up to beautiful blue and the sun beat a little stronger. But when night came and the air cooled off, it was the best feeling. The sunset lit the sky with pink and purple, silhouetting the mesas against the slivered moon and stars.
To me, the desert is still. It’s quiet. There is something about walking around the ruins that makes me slow down and feel everything that is preserved in the rocks around me. The desert changes slowly and doesn’t forget much, so I definitely feel traces of the past when I sit for a moment in the shade with my back to a wind-weathered rock face. Things like this always seem to keep me coming back for more.