I love being myself, so I love being a fat hiker. Walking on desert ground and seeing those amazing plants that heal my soul. Seeing rocks, trash, sky, clouds. Hearing quiet. Feeling wind and warmth.
Moving through space a lot–pausing to stretch or dance and get my wiggles out. Pausing to take a photo or touch a branch.
I held a creosote branch today. Felt like holding hands with it. Reminded me of holding rocks and the rock feels like a person. Deep comfort of contact with that being.
I’m grateful to my body for letting me walk most days, and to Ming for honoring my request to go out to nature. I know nature is everywhere, even me. But it’s special to take a hike and wonder about a trail marker on its side on the ground, some wooden posts that have no apparent purpose.
A round silver bearing was placed as a trap or lure, stuck in a joshua tree, appealing to liberate, but dangerous to reach for. Those sharp spikes are legit sharp spikes. We considered it litter and worked together–used a long stick to flick it out.
