So much to reply to and comment on.
This discussion reminded me of the never settled debate on TSNS site of whether we should call our activity ‘secret’ naturism. Some didn’t like that word because secret sounded sneaky, guilty or fearful. I remember finally choosing ‘Solitary’ instead of ‘Secret’ Naturism. An adjective I felt more comfortable with.
My naked hiking may have begun in secret because of the initial novelty. But over time I became more of a solitary traveler. Training myself to be silent and aware. Absorbing what I encountered along with the thoughts and impressions those encounters generated.
Years ago there was a man in here who had a weekly radio spot about the Mojave Desert. He said he often would hear comments from visitors such as, ‘I don’t like it here. There just aren’t any seasons’. He usually would get irritated. But his usual patient reply was, ‘Actually, we do have seasons, you just have to pay attention to see them’.
He contrasted seasonal changes here with the traditional changes elsewhere by describing those as ‘big splashy over the top events that assault you with sensory overload’. He found delight in the minute changes in plants and animal behavior that describe the seasons here. You have to focus and in doing so you not only see the changes but notice things you hadn’t seen before. As you observe, you DO see how the landscape changes. It comes slowly. You will not see it over a weekend or a few days.
I am in a region that has had an active and varied natural history. All you need do is look. You see different types of rock and deposits in alternating layers. You don’t even have to dig down to see them. They are on display on the mountain slopes. They tell you how it was made. You see the evidence of violent natural forces and events. You also see the gradual changes.
Water, wind, volcanoes, tectonics, it’s all right in front of you if you just look and take it all in. It is an amazing vista. In places layer thicknesses are measured in hundreds of feet, in others in inches. Layers of different colors and textures. Sometimes the layers are at different angles or even perpendicular to the other. How does that happen? Everything you see tells you something about how it was formed.
Lookup the ‘
Frenchman Mountain Unconformity’ where large gaps occur in the geologic record and/or the ‘
Keystone Thrust’ where you can see layers 350 million years old over the top of layers only 180 million years old. You can just walk right up to them and see it.
The variety of treasures nature provides in green environments has been pared down to just the geology and the tough desert life that clings to it. Here you can see what lies beneath all that surface life in other locales.
Walking in the desert is a treat no matter your clothing choices. For me, without clothes creates a heightened and varied experience. With no barriers to interrupt the sensory input. You are using more than the skin of your hands as you move. Anything you come in contact with, is noticed. Sometimes, even if I am somewhere I’ve been before I discover something I have missed. It’s always been there, waiting.
When I am alone I see the wonder of the variety. When I start my walk, I begin with a quick walk and get my metabolism elevated. Once I am breathing deeply and aware, I then calm myself and I see God in the landscape. I am thankful to be able to see His handiwork. It is creation made magnificent through the endless, smallest details.
I don’t attempt to describe what I am seeing. I know just enough about what I am looking at to appreciate what it is. For a short time, I am a part of that landscape. I am walking where other travelers before me have contemplated the same features. I am sure with only minor changes over time.
On a calm day when you are out in the middle of nowhere away from the modern noises, just stop. You can hear the sounds of the desert. Look around you to see. How better could it be than to be in the desert than with your thoughts as your only companion. I have learned to appreciate what I see.
eyesup
There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered. – Nelson Mandela
