Seeking Wisdom in the Desert

March 24, 2014 by 2 Comments
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Center © 2014 Bo Mackison

I lose my center. I feel dispersed, scattered, in pieces. I must have time alone in which to mull over any encounter, and to extract its juices, its essence, to understand what has really happened to me as a consequence of it. ~ May Sarton

When I hear the words “in the desert”:..

… I think it is time to make choices and live with the consequences; to accept who I am, and feel grateful for the opportunity to live in solitude; to follow a contemplative path; to focus on the positives while being aware of the negatives; to look up at the desert sky and connect with the stars.

What I most yearn for “in the desert”…

… a warmth that spreads from outside to inside; to develop tolerance and strength when dealing with stressors; to feel totally alive, embracing each moment.

What I fear while I’m “in the desert”…

…while I know I will make mistakes, may they be mistakes I can learn from; may they cause no harm to others; may the challenges prove fruitful.

Intention is the power of the experience. ~ Cynthia Gale

What I hope for “in the desert”…

…that I will develop courage to see me through my days, and through the long nights, too; that I will make choices that are true to myself; that I will choose life-enhancing while avoiding life-depleting practices.

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A journaling technique I sometimes use, asking and answering repetitive questions with just a change of one word. I considered my relationship with the desert and then incorporated the words hear, yearn, fear, and hope into questions. It provided just enough of a container to direct my thoughts and writing.

Filed Under: Nature Explorations, Writing Practices Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,

Desert Heat

July 19, 2013 by 8 Comments
Dixie's Final Resting Place

Dixie’s Final Resting Place ©2013 Bo Mackison

a·ban·don

1 [uh-ban-duhn]

verb

1. to leave completely and finally; forsake utterly; desert.

2. to cast away, leave, or desert, as property or a child.

 

Abandoned in the Desert

Abandoned in the Desert ©2013 Bo Mackison

de·sert

 [dih-zurt]

verb

1. to leave (a person, place, etc.) without intending to return, especially in violation of a duty or promise. Synonyms: abandon, leave, quit; forsake.

 

Desert Heat

Desert Heat ©2013 Bo Mackison

des·ert

1 [dez-ert]

noun

1. a region so arid because of little rainfall that it supports only sparse and widely spaced vegetation or no vegetation at all.

2. any area in which few forms of life can exist because of lack of water, permanent frost, or absence of soil.

 

 

Abandoned Stove in the Desert

Abandoned Range in the Desert ©2013 Bo Mackison

range

[rnj]
noun

1. The act of wandering or roaming over a large area.

2. A stove with spaces for cooking a number of things at the same time.
Hot Stove in the Desert

Hot Stove in the Desert ©2013 Bo Mackison

 

heat

[heet]

noun

1. the state of a body perceived as having or generating a relatively high degree of warmth.

2. the condition or quality of being hot: the heat of an oven.

3. the degree of hotness; temperature

verb
4. to become hot or warm

 

I first photographed these abandoned ranges/ovens/stoves scattered about the grounds of the Post Picket House, a historical but unmaintained property that’s part of the Boyce Thompson Arboretum near Globe, Arizona. Ovens abandoned in the desert. Really, who needs an oven in the desert?

The good folks in the Southwest describe their temperature highs with the disclaimer that it’s a dry heat, as if that negates the fact that is it nearly as hot as Hades. In my mind, when heat is described as “dry as an oven” it is still hot. Really, no matter what words you use, lingering temps over 100˚F deserve the descriptor HOT. If you’re not convinced, you could always poke  your head in a hot oven for a second or two — not advised though.

So…is the interior temperature of an oven abandoned in a desert as accurate as an oven abandoned elsewhere? I would presume so, considering age and condition of said abandoned ovens.

Disclaimer: Obviously, the prolonged high humidity and temperatures in the Midwest — though NOT dry like an oven — is responsible for the lucidity of this post. A week with temps over 90˚ and brains begin to soften around the edges…

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.   She is awaiting a break in the weather. Or not.

 

Filed Under: Photography, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,