Alive in Death Valley

In my vehicular tour of Death Valley, I stopped at Father Crowley Point to gaze out onto the Panamint Valley area of the park.

I'd been a little trepidatious to return to Death Valley, the precipitant of my existential crisis four years ago, where I felt so small and surrounded by...well, death.

But upon my return, invigorated by the heat, finally free from my office, I felt more alive than ever.



I was surrounded by more people this time, a bit earlier in the season, but still only a few...



And the occasional blooming creosote bush or other green plant.

And although I frequented ghost towns and invited desertion into my weekend, I found some friends along the way.

Death Valley felt vibrant, lively, shifting, evolving. The hot wind breathed on my neck. The rocks glowed. The creeks swelled. The dunes cascaded.

And I was living.

Related post:
Overlooking the Badlands

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