Monthly Archives: June 2019

Milagrosa Trail

2019-03-10

Changes are happening, we’re saying good-bye, letting go and honoring our past:

Looking Up the Milagrosa Trail

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My Private Place for Naturism #26

2017-12-22

I slip on five toe shoes and walk out the front door of my home. It is getting cooler from an unseasonably warm Fall. There is just a slight awakening chill here on the shady side of my house, not uncomfortable, but just enough to tell me that I’m naked all over in the air, in a natural way.

I emerge into the bright sun and immediately feel its heating effect on the right side on my body and back. From that, I know that I’m walking northwest, and it is around 3:00 by the position of the sun. These wonderful warm days will be replaced by cooler temperatures of winter soon. The winter is long overdue. I’m thinking that I’m going to make the most of this stroll in the desert, as I turn north, away from homes and into pristine nature.

Nudity brings an intense awareness to me. The nude body is very wise. I discover the anticipation of something sharp. The intimate and gigantic knowledge that we apply to the act of walking through, or around, a scratchy prickery bush is an amazing act. We know just how much we can allow the bush to touch us, before it leaves a mark or blood. As in slow motion, I step through something and can compensate and protect myself in less than a conscious instant. I naturally react before I am able to think it through. Action is automatic and I can only observe the miracle of it.

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Some Change

Packin’ Ma Bags, Heading to the….

As I mentioned before, we have four or five springtime adventures, several shorts and articles to finish up. We have a four year anniversary in July and some unpublished stories out of the past that need reworked.

For four years, I’ve managed to consistently get out something every week. For the next weeks, I’ll make the attempt, but there is no guarantee that publication timing will not get erratic.

My house is finally selling, I’m moving after 20 years of accumulation. I’m beginning a transition into a whole new situation. I’ve become very busy, suddenly.

We had planned a couple of days here and there (all work and no play makes….), but DF has broken her toe and will be off uneven surfaces, like the trails, for a few weeks. Maybe, we could car camp and….

Oh well, this will pass. I love doing this website. Maybe I’ll shove it all into a locker and just take off at the end of escrow. Life will be open ended and at my whim.

So bare/bear with, for now.

You can get notification upon each new post, if you become a follower. I won’t spam. If I get behind, there are something like 242 previous posts, most will read like new.

Thank-you all,

Jbee and DF

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Seeing with the Skin

2010 During Monsoon

 

I got home from shopping in the city last night about midnight. After the dog walk; I wanted to inspect what changes that evening’s violent rain storm had given us. I left my clothes inside of the house.

I enjoy the looking for evidence of how much rain we had, like tiny streams where water had flowed, standing water, or measuring how much ponding occurs in particular areas (natural rain gages). I discover washed away tracks now turned virgin terrain, as if no one had stepped foot there before.

I looked up at the exceptionally clear sky, rinsed of dust and polluting particles. There, thousands of stars peaked out between the clouds that were subtly lit by the light from the city of Tucson. The clouds hardly moved as they sat seemingly comfortably.

I listened to the crunch of the sands beneath my feet, then a quail shuffled in the bushes.

The air felt so much more humid than what had been the norm these past few months and seemed more stagnant this evening. It was thicker and clinging to me more like a friendly blanket on my naked skin.

As I rounded the big mesquite tree “island of life” that my driveway bends around, the air was cooler. A few paces more and it warmed again. I back-tracked and experienced the cool again and stood there a moment or two. It felt refreshing.

I moved just enough to map where the transition was and explore just how abrupt that was. Was it like two sacks or balloons one cool and one warm next to each other. Was it like stepping into a pool of cool water on a warm day with a definite line of transition, or a slower transition, a kind of grey zone? I couldn’t find myself in a situation where one side of my body was warmed and one cooled, so I suspect there was a foot or two of grey. Maybe, I disturbed it, like breaking a bubble.

This air wasn’t moving much like a current. I looked up at the rock ridge and terrain for evidence of the stream that this cool may have traveled down. Cool air is heavier and flows in and above the grooves, but there was none.

I walked toward the mesquite island. The branches create a haven for other life, both plant and animal. A huge bush, it’s like a mother spreading her arms to protect. This has the effect of a cooler place. I’ve felt this when the breeze blows through these life islands and cool air rushes out like an evaporative cooler. This cool spot wasn’t attached to the island.

It dawned on me that this bubble of cool may have been caused by my going down the driveway slowly in my car, creating turbulence and separating it in the otherwise calm thick air. In my mind’s eye, I can imagine this huge bubble wobbling like jello as it bounces over the front of my car like some sort of invisible roadside casualty and sinking back to earth encased with the warm air. Could it be?

Wow, there’s a whole new world to explore by simply seeing with my skin. I’ve decided to make a frequent practice of walking naked through this spot in the evenings as temporary conditions change and vary.

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Miniature Golf

Spring 2019

 

Saturday night is the annual Piano Burn. A friend of ours has a huge pit in the desert outside of Tucson. Burners gather each year to set fire to a stack of collected pianos, all of which are too far gone to keep. This year, we also enjoy around 100 dry Xmas trees, and 60 pallets. They are looped around in a conch-like circling. A surfer rock band will be assembled to set the perfect tone as we munch, drink, dance, remark on burns past, and party. But first….

Up the hill in the intentional community, DF and I have an appointment with The Turtle, our friend’s oddly shaped sauna sweat. We arrive about 4pm to find it already warmed and cooking. We eagerly strip immediately while saying our hellos to friends, old and brand new. We grab a towel each to sit on and we enter.

It is a wonderful detox. A new rig in the pipes holds the heat in, much more efficiently than before. We take top seats and begin to howl in the echo of the carefully worked out acoustic bubbles of ferro cement. We stretch and pull our muscles by feel and conscious yoga moves. We get out, enjoy a bit of potluck dinner, sit in the sun and a light breeze and then return.

It is a fine place to be naked. The soft sandy soil has little vegetation. Prickers are few. We can wander barefoot all over and we do. We inspect the new restrooms being constructed of rammed earth. We take a stroll in the desert, and back.

There is a crop of odd plants out back. We inspect what is identified as a field of tall onions, but have another discovery on the way. It is “A Whole in Oneness.”

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