Waking Up in the Desert

Waking up to┬átotal quiet, save for the faint rustling of the brush whispering in the wind. Knowing you’re not in your own bed, but being comforted by that thought at the same time. Crawling out of your sleeping bag, welcoming the slight chill, and peeking out of your tent to realize with a rush of excitement that you’ve woken up to the start of the sunrise.

What better feeling is there than to finally have done something┬áthat suggests you’re not completely out of touch with nature (whatever “nature” means). That your hours spend in front of the computer, up hours past the last light of day fades, haven’t completely robbed your body of this instinct to rise with the sun.

I stand there, outside the tent, in a landscape I never thought I’d fall in love with. Watching the sun come up over the hills, illuminating the vast valley teeming with life that I could never have imagined would be there. Eyes closed, I bask in the rays that bring me out of the rejuvenating darkness of night, infusing my entire being with a new kind of renewal, sunlight, daylight, movement. A new day.

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