It has been four years that this two year project has been going strong. Happy Birthday TheFreeRangeNaturist.org.

We’re gonna keep goin’…naturally.

Thanks for joining us on our adventures, for following and all the thumbs up. We hope that you are becoming more and more liberated, too.

The site first published on the 14th of July, more or less. We hope that you all get to celebrate “International Nude Day” and/or “National Nude Day” and/or the culmination of “Nude Recreation Week” this Sunday!

Jbee and DF

P.S. A two part solstice hike story in the White Mountains is coming next week.

I just took off my robe. I noticed a change in posture.

Yesterday, I was walking around the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show in my wrangler denim jeans. I had my hands in my pant’s pockets, which is a slouch.

A tight outfit, makes a body move more stiff. It limits the range of motion. These become habits when the muscles are not being used, stretched, or being exercised. A waistband can tighten a belly, squeeze it over the top as a pot belly and constrict flow. It can affect a hernia, giving false support to muscles that need to carry their own duties.

Too Tight!

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Late June 2019

The cicada are busy. They are an odd bug with a short bulbous body and longer cellophane wings. The winter rains, or the seven year itch, have brought them on in force.  I’m not sure why it is that they are so active. Perhaps I tune them out during their seasonal comings and try to forget the chatter of their wings, but I’m also seeing more of them.

Today I’ll sit on the porch and listen. It will be one-hundred-something Fahrenheit by afternoon. The sun is already warm this morning, as I step out the front door. I wince at the glare from the east. It’s kind of bright when seen through sleepy morning eyes that are used to being closed.

There is the warmth all down my right side as I face north and listen. The cicada chatter. Like crickets they tend to ebb and flow. When it dies down, there is a calm.

I turn to make my way to the shady porch around the corner.  I proceed along the walkway with two empty chairs and a table with a collection of ancient pottery shards. The sun feels good, as if a god is giving me a pat on the back. As I cross, the sun’s blessing becomes a massage. I enjoy the touch, but there has been plenty of heat during the last couple of weeks. This morning, for now, I’d like some cool.

The porch has its couch facing west. It presents a view into the lush desert. I sit down in its charming cradle of fluff. I cross my legs Indian fashion, I sit up comfortably, the mind stays stilled, not yet out of sleep.

The cicadas persist, more ebb and flow, more chatter to calmness. Continue reading →

2019-03-10

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

Looking Up the Milagrosa Trail

Remember: You can enhance and blow up any photo by clicking it.

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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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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

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.

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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2019-05-03

I found that my calendar was filled with an abundance of “ME” time. DF went to Morocco with her women’s group for a couple of weeks.

Camels on the Beach: DF on the Lead

I quickly got into the business of a detox fast. I took care of myself, exercised moderately and studied on how to do that.

One day, I wandered out and found myself at the door of an old friend that I used to work with. He has several acres about a mile and a half a mile from me.

As we caught up, he began to show me around his property. I realized that I had never seen the acreage. Upon my request, he took me on a full tour of his desert twenty, or so, acres. The main wash rolls through the property on the hidden side of the hills, which you don’t see from the south face, where he lives. It is covered with the usual mesquite and grasses. It is the stealth route that DF and I have used to access a tall waterfall through the Stone Canyon Golf Course and residential area. The gated community sprung up blocking my old bike path to the waterfall, but that is another story.

What I didn’t realize is that there is a tributary, which intersects there and his property is backed against State Trust Land. He also offered me the run of the place, anytime.

After the visit, I got on line and investigated the area with Google Maps. I followed the brown strip of sand up and into the mountains. Several spots with large bedrock sheets can be seen. Mesquite trees line the natural path. There are million dollar homes on the border of the public lands, but apparently there is a dip into the wash, which creates a view buffer and the distance is far enough to not be seen. At this point, I have decided to hold off until DF‘s return, but I’m chomping at the bit to get out there and explore.

My Front Drive in Bloom

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Forests are made for weary men,

That they may find their soul again.

And little leaves are hung on trees

To whisper of old memories.

And trails with cedar shadows black

Are placed there just to lead men back

Past all the pitfalls of success

To boyhoods faith and happiness.

Far from the city’s craft and fraud,

O Forest, lead me back to God!

—Mary Carolyn Davies

There are thousands of poems that rejoice the spiritual quality of nature. Vistas of snow-capped mountains, flowing rivers, dark forests and golden plains inspire awe and stir spiritual feelings in the human soul. The scent of a flower, thick green grass, or the touch of the waters of a cool lake impart wonderment and sensuality.The infinite roof of stars and clouded skies elicit human writing that extols their beauty from authors of every nation and creed.

Authors and readers the world over appreciate the sensual spirituality of the natural world. It is a sacred dimension that can be felt by everyone. It allows a soul to respond to the natural world, from a child wishing on a star, to old age.

Nature brings us closer to a sense of an immaterial reality, a higher power, an integral oneness in nature that connects its myriad forms with us – if we care to let it.  From the earliest roots of mankind, when perhaps forces of nature were closer to our existence and perception, we have known this spirit and this transcendental oneness. It can be simply by our senses interfacing with the experience of nature.

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