Every seven years, or so, the spring temperatures, the amount rainfall and its timing, work together, to create a spectacular desert blooming. This year is being called a “super bloom.”
We had been a few days at the hot springs, when a friend, who had been out taking pictures, stopped in for the afternoon for a soak She told us of the occurrence. Leaving Monday, we decided to take the long way home and see what it was about.
Leaving about 1:30, we are off for a four hour drive. Having been nude three or four days, we leave, staying the same. Clothing doesn’t make much sense anymore, not after that long without.
The road up to Globe passes through the San Carlos Indian Reservation. That’s where the show begins in earnest. There are patches of yellow flowers in the desert fields along the road.
Suddenly, a field of yellow Arizona poppies shows, glowing in their florescence.
La Nina and climate change have brought us a much longer winter. Springtime hasn’t happened. Business obligations were followed by a hernia operation to further stretch my frustrations. I haven’t been out hiking all year and it is mid-march!
Then, one day, I feel recovered enough to walk away from my stir crazied life, my clothing and coverings. One last piece of barbed wire is stretched to allow my nude body to carefully climb through the last obstacle and I am free.
It is a familiar spot in the Arizona desert. We haven’t seen it in years, however. I climb the hill and at the top, my bodily inventory tells me that I’m doing just fine.There is no returning burning pain and no exhaustion from inactivity.
I love waking up in the forest. This is like coming home.
Everyone is up early. A-blue jay is on the ground near the tent. There are lots of bulges in the packed leaves. Birds have been digging. I had heard someone poking around in the leaves next to the tent just before dusk.
I had spent a few minutes awake as the world came alive. There were more of those voracious bats just before sunup.
I sight a butterfly high above through the mesh tent cover, “Good morning.”
Stepping outside, the weather is inviting.
We march a quick short nude walk, .2 miles on the graded road and trailhead.
Four grey squirrels sit and romp around at a familiar looking rock. It is peaceful and pleasant. Walking nude up the middle of the road, we know that we are alone. Anyone approaching can be heard a mile away. It feels so free.
We both jump, startled by the crash of a larger animal, which suddenly shoots out of the brush a few feet from us. It is running away into the scrub forest at a fast rate. It jumps like a deer over obstacles. We’re surprised to see that a javalina can jump like that on their short legs.
The story of this trip was the trees. The highlight was a magnificent alligator juniper where the water springs out of the creek bed and then ponds.
Alligator Juniper have a distinctive bark. It generally looks much like an alligator bag. Fires and other challenges damage “Gators.” Often there is a dead grey section which is not covered by the bark. The tree lives on. Branches grow out, die and new arrive.
There are plenty of Gators in the forest when we arrive at camp. It is interspersed with scrub oak and other vegetation that grow happy at 4 to six thousand feet elevation. These trunks are somewhat the same, but upstream, where moister is more abundant more often during the year, or a perennial stream and other species naturally intermix, they all take off with growth. There, we find trees with the character of time, abundance and scars of disruption and survival.
It’s the first Saturday of May again and World Naked Gardening Day!
I have a blank canvas of an urban yard. Decades ago, it was once an arugula field, so the soil is very rich.
I have been used to a natural automatic garden with a rock slope in Tortolita. All I needed to do was to occasionally trim back the overgrowth on the trails there. It was a living ecosystem. This new place in town has no rocks and little native vegetation. I’m looking to make it an edible meditation garden. It all goes hand in hand with the new community sweat, now on the property (Much about that in a later post).
When I contemplate peace, I feel my oneness with all I know and beyond. There is that quiet strength that it gives me. When I see a tranquil lake, a gorgeous sunset, or a mountain stream, smell a familiar scent, or hear the wings of a passing bird, I know that.
A vista, or the array of stars will put within me awareness of my sense of the vast identity that I share, I know that strength. When I feel the air and the sun across my nude body, my feet upon the Earth the energetic or reassuring touch of another, that body knows thanks. I can feel thanks in this body, more than to just think it, or to list it in the mind. The beauty around me and within me, that which I am, is the gratitude and oneness.
Feeling peaceful, I am relaxed and calm. I glow from within and feel serenity in my soul. I breathe easier, remain positive and always feel thanks. I am mindful of my place in the universe and the difference that I make in this world. I am a spiritual being in this body, sharing my unique energy and talents.
I can travel far to grasp the magnificent experiences, or I can walk naked where I am, at any given moment, to realize my being and my peace.
There is inspiration by the beauty of creation to know calm and strength through oneness.
I am truly blessed.
I frequent FreeRangeNaturism.com. You are invited to join us to discuss anything naturist.
Here we are, it’s Spring again and a first warm opportunity, a perfect day has presented itself. We were looking for a hike, to enjoy our deep tropical tans. Just over a week ago, we were in Zipolite, Mexico. Spoiled, we’re after sand, water and more of that terrific sense of liberty.
We have to stay down in the desert, because elevation makes the air much cooler up in the mountain’s trees, at this time of year. We also, want to try something new.
Redington probably has water from the recent rains. We thought of hiking the sacred mountain Babaquvari, but that is such a strenuous hike. We just feel like taking it somewhat easier. There is fresh ground up past Redington Canyon that would be new to us. We’re off.
Clothing can be fun. I suppose that that sounds odd coming from me, but clothing has been a festive accessory for millennia. DF and I have dressed up in nude outfits on occasion.
I had a long blonde wig sitting around for several years waiting for an occasion. DF and I needed new costumes for the big Halloween bash. Our friends were putting on a special show. Neither of us could get away with nude in public but hair, aka Lady Godiva and we had but one wig between the two of us.
I found nude body stockings at a ballet shop. With the wig and my masculine features, like the thick mustache, well it just looked silly. A comical impression of the lady Godiva…good!
DF needed something for her nude form fitting tights and she decided on an Eve. We made leaf patterns out of a green felt material, which was much like a pool table cloth. These were placed strategically.
We walked into the open air bar, grabbed drinks, walked around a corner and were barely on the dance floor, when a mike augmented voice blasted out, “Lady Godiva.” I won a prize, then and there!
The outfits went over big, which was fun. But we did realize that there was a bit of a see-through effect in certain areas without the opaque coverings. I noticed a pair of older women staring as I danced. Apparently when the hair shifted… I had to be on a diligent duty, keeping DF informed of any shifting of her shrubbery.
Of course in a one piece outfit, toiletries presented an obvious difficulty.
We had lots of fun.
So Next Year, Just Plain Naked:
The next year, going back to the usual very authentic pirate costumes wasn’t enough whimsy, so, we decided to go completely naked. Again this option just couldn’t cut muster with local law and the leftover nude body stockings came back out of the drawer. Again they were revealing.
This is the end of the previous tale about navigation when hiking. I am on my way back to Terra Sante across wide open spaces of various terrain. The first part can be found as the previous post.
My memory of the subtle differences in my landmarks faulty, I am having a tough time staying on my route, except when I find the jeep trail that crosses my path. Soon enough, I’m making my way toward the sticks that I placed to point the way.
This jeep trail has been a relief from the random wandering through the open desert. The harsh thick plant life makes a straight line of any kind impossible.
Several times, someone has asked how we navigate. I have a GPS that I have used once. I got it to not get lost in the forested mountains. There I can’t see far and the foliage and terrain is redundant enough to confuse landmarks. I’ve used this devise only a couple of times over the years.
We usually use more primitive navigational means. Where we go is mostly mountainous, or between mountains, with plenty of distinct landmarks. We often use marked trails.
I do use technology to get acquainted beforehand. I get everything that I can find off of the internet. I use Google Maps and then their satellite images to surmise what we might expect. I sometimes use raw hand-drawn maps, and sometimes topo maps.
There is always something else that needs to be done to not get lost, common sense, extra senses, observations, vigilant memories, either on the trails, or bushwhacking.
This will be two tales. The first takes place in the spring, me alone. The second is brief, when DF accompanied.
I will combine the photos of two stories here. You see, I went alone the first time and wrote the story. My photos from that experience were not adequate illustrations. A few months later, DF and I returned, cameras in hand, which made another story and more on this topic of navigation.
The spoiler alert is that in each tale, we nearly got lost wandering in the desert, again, but for our wits.