we are astronauts

photo (23) Sometimes we venture into the wild places where the ground is parched and red. We honor this odd geography of recessed craters and twisted sandstone bodies.

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We climb over hot stones and wade through coffee colored pools. Our backpacks scrape petroglyphs against the smooth rock wall. We are astronauts exploring this otherworld, this earth bound moonscape.

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One evening, while chopping wood, we notice that the cliffs are laced with crystals so soft they melt between our fingertips.

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When the blue sky falls and the black sky steps in to take her place, I walk into the sagebrush and declare:

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"I am queen of the desert."

We fall asleep in the back of the truck, blanketed by a night soaked in molasses and sugar stars.

We wake up to bird song that sounds like dripping water, if dripping water could sing.

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We greet the sun, and start again.