Old Man Winter put 20 pounds on my rump roast. I asked little of my body, except to fight off a fleet of renegade germs. Translation: This naked stick bush spent her winter chilling on some out of the way section of barb wire waiting for spring winds to blow her free.
Lucky for me I spent a good part of Friday forcing my chunky butt into physical labor. Boy, did I sweat. Meanwhile, I eagerly soaked up some of God's glorious sun rays (through two coats of SPF 50). Then, I drank about six quarts of water to flush out the toxic gunk that must have built up inside. One thing I have found, town life yields no shortage of the artificial...colors, flavors, preservatives, conversation...
After that, I felt so freaking good that I drank two beers and turned down an old dirt road. I put it into the universe I was ready to find this mysterious "nearby lake" the locals have been rumbling about. From my place, hung up in the fence, this Wild Nevadan girl-woman thought they must have gone crazy. How could I have not known such a place exists?
All I need is a reason to range off the beaten path with generalized accounts of an otherwise unknown destination.
Are you kidding? This what I live for!
How lucky we are to offer your thoughts to the universe and get back what we think?
The minute I let go of Old Man Winter, almost no effort was required for this old naked stick bush to find the lake these people speak of.
And, so I guess will continue to call it a lake, though it is only a lake by some kind of wild Nevadan standard. Perhaps it is because I found my own reason to be ready for more generalized exploration...