big sky country

(Partial re-post from a guest spot at Mortal Muses.)

When I moved to California from Toronto 16 years ago and met English hubby, we bonded over road trips in his old Bronco to the desert, the mountains and the Pacific Northwest forests and coasts. I was bowled over by the landscapes and fell in love with wide open spaces.  The drives to get to those places were always accompanied by mix-tapes on the car stereo - a soundtrack to the views passing by - most road trips included Big Sky Country by Chris Whitley.

It was Death Valley that stunned me into silence, however. When we first arrived after an almost half-day drive from the San Francisco Bay Area, it was already twilight and the stars were coming out. We set up camp and I think I barely spoke a word for the rest of the evening. I couldn't believe how silent it was and yet how the stars vibrated and sang.  It still defies description for me. We returned many times, sometimes alone and sometimes with friends and the magic never faded.

We recently made the trip again after many years, this time with Sweetpea. We silently hoped she would feel the same magic as we had, but braced ourselves for the fact that she might be bored and wonder why we'd dragged her all the way there.  My husband sometimes talks about how I go "feral" in the wilderness - going silent as the silence and space take over and letting my spirit become awestruck.  And although our trip was brief this time, we saw the same thing happen for Sweetpea.

At twilight we stopped by the side of the road and she took off like a bird into the dusk, stopping to collect rocks and sticks and build sculptures with no need of any interaction from us.

We woke up at dawn the next day at our favourite spot in Panamint Valley and stepped out to catch the sunrise. 

Sweetpea snuggles under my fleece for extra warmth.

re-staging a photo English hubby took of me in the same spot years before....

It was bone-chillingly cold so we didn't linger, but we consoled ourselves with the thought that there would be hot drinks and breakfast back at the motel and braved it as long as we could.

We were wary of trying to duplicate our past experiences and there were a few minor disappointments, mostly to do with our limited time and the need to make the trip fun for an eight year old. 

But those landscapes?  They don't change.  Still magic.