The desert has my heart. It always will. I've loved it since I first saw it, fourteen, gangly and awkward. Uncertain of where I fit in, or if I did at all. Glasses, crooked on my nose, an unflattering short haircut in which one side curled under, and the other flipped the opposite. I was not desired like the other girls on the trip, but this made it easy to slip away, to revel in the landscape and feel the whip of the dry desert air across my then-soft and young cheek. I fell in love on that trip anyway, with the plateaus and the summer storms that would crackle across the sky and mist my shoulders before the storm had really arrived, fell in love with the red clay and a place so different than where I'd spent my first years, but it wasn't the difference alone that made me love it so dearly. It was me, and what I needed to see and feel and be changed by. I have remained steadfast in my love for the desert, for the roads leading west, no matter how often the nose of the car has to be pointed east instead, turn me right back around. That trip is one of the many reasons I want to live on the road, why I decided to not settle for a life I didn't want, in a place I never loved, where I couldn't find myself. And each time I return, it is like coming home and I come alive again, and I am still marveling at each and every beautiful bit of it, and it always has something new to show me, to teach me, and I am always ready for its magic.

birchandpineさん(@birchandpine)が投稿した動画 -

Kate Oliverのインスタグラム(birchandpine) - 2月12日 07時42分


The desert has my heart. It always will. I've loved it since I first saw it, fourteen, gangly and awkward. Uncertain of where I fit in, or if I did at all. Glasses, crooked on my nose, an unflattering short haircut in which one side curled under, and the other flipped the opposite.

I was not desired like the other girls on the trip, but this made it easy to slip away, to revel in the landscape and feel the whip of the dry desert air across my then-soft and young cheek.
I fell in love on that trip anyway, with the plateaus and the summer storms that would crackle across the sky and mist my shoulders before the storm had really arrived, fell in love with the red clay and a place so different than where I'd spent my first years, but it wasn't the difference alone that made me love it so dearly.
It was me, and what I needed to see and feel and be changed by. I have remained steadfast in my love for the desert, for the roads leading west, no matter how often the nose of the car has to be pointed east instead, turn me right back around. That trip is one of the many reasons I want to live on the road, why I decided to not settle for a life I didn't want, in a place I never loved, where I couldn't find myself.
And each time I return, it is like coming home and I come alive again, and I am still marveling at each and every beautiful bit of it, and it always has something new to show me, to teach me, and I am always ready for its magic.


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