There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes.
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more...

-Lord Byron

Definition of Walkabout :

a short period of wandering as an occasional interruption of regular work
Showing posts with label Bonneville Salt Flats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bonneville Salt Flats. Show all posts

01 January 2016

Y2K16

4:47 a.m.
6 degrees Fahrenheit.
January the first, two thousand and sixteen.

No food, no water. The faintest of orange starts to glow on the horizon. He straps on the mask and walks out into the salt flats.

"Kiss my fat ass 2015".
The last week of 2015 was just as horrible the rest of the year. Detained and questioned like a criminal at the border, his meager possessions stripped from him.

His last resolve was to seek refuge in this country, and that hope was torn to shreds by the sins of his past.

He is banished to walk into the New Year alone, cold and hungry. As the sun rises, he see a mirage. 

A Tree of Life.
Climbing into one of the broken ovum's, he slowly emerges after a spell. A butterfly with new purpose for wings. He won't let the fuckery of the past diminish the future before him. 

14 July 2013

the Salt Flats

After almost a month outside my country, the return has been a difficult adjustment. I need time to re-evaluate priorities, with no distractions. The Salt seemed the ideal place for some perspective.
The Bonneville Salt Flats are so flat you seem to see the curvature of the planet, so barren not even the simplest of life forms survive. A place for isolation where one faces demons and personal truths head on.
I find an area to set up camp, and set forth upon the salt and rock, clearing my head with each step. I have no visitors 'cept for the lonely crow, cawing his welcome to the unforgiving landscape. The wind blows the cobwebs from my mind.

I began cloudbursting with renewed imagination. Disconnected from the outside world.
Just me.
As the sun begins it's inevitable descent, I build a fire and chant in sun kissed skin. Laying naked under the stars, my walkabout is revealed in the nothingness.
Surviving the night through sweat and realization. New insight.
Sleeping in the howling wind, I rise to the early orange glow of the returning sun along the horizon. Walking out of the Salt with purpose....

going forward.