We are in the Prescott Area of Arizona, on top of the hill that Ken and Amie call home. We will take hike today, but after a morning walk in the maze that is etched into the natural vegetation on that hill.
This morning, in their warmth, the bright orange sun’s beams blind me. We are up on the hill. So the early rising is at eye level over the distant hills. A hand used like the brim of a hat is ineffective in this kind of glare. Even so, this light is wondrous. The shadows are more definitive. There is a golden hue all about. It is augmenting the various shades of green on this lush shrub hill.
I’m tempted by the soil and rock trail that Ken has placed on his property, which is now glowing golden orange and rose. I slip off my flip flop shoes and walk on, completely naturally bare. I feel especially alive. It meanders and I get generally lost among the scents of morning and of moist dew. I’m sensing that particular energy that excites life at this time of day and the dawn before it.
When I finally find my way back, my feet have been massaged. They are a bit raw from all of the pedestrian activity and from the few spots along the way with a collection of errant sharp rocks. The carpet of laid sod, a thick verdant grass next to the house, is moist, cool and soothing. I feel wonderful and ready. I grab what I need and hop into the back seat, which has DF waiting in it. We are more than ready for a carnude. Continue reading