The sand dunes

I enjoyed our last voyage to the sand dunes so much last weekend, that this weekend I beg the Fisherman to set out for the desert again… and thus, we did.

Strong winds blew incessantly lifting up sands everywhere and with such impetus, that from inside our cozy tent it sounded like a furious sea, with big mad waves crashing onto some lofty sea cliff.  Tumbleweeds toppled down and rolled around trailers and tables and every wall in our gypsy caravan groaned and shock violently.  So pugnaciously winds blew, and howled, that we thought about packing everything up and head back home, but the dunes had taunted us with sunshine and coyote songs and we decided to take a chance and stay.

I had bought new blankets and colorful mandalas to decorate and spice up a bit our gypsy caravan, and thus, both sleeping quarters got a beautiful makeover.  New softer, puffier pillows and pillowcases too.

The campground wasn’t as crowded as some other times and we drove down to the sand dunes and walked around beautiful solitary spaces sheltered in the flora of dunes and lake that reminded me so much of the wildernesses of Israel. Then came back to our cozy tent to hide from the wind, and made us a late lunch of Italian wedding soup, tamales and Pot-stickers...

That afternoon we read and worked on our computers and ate chocolate chip cookies and drank lattes, until we couldn’t hear the wind blowing outside any longer, and everything calmed down and the night came upon our gypsy caravan in soft murmurs.  It was cold and dark in the desert, but inside our cozy cocoon it was the most pleasant place in the whole wide world, warm, comfy, snug, comfortable, colorful, romantic and inviting…

The following morning turned out to be one of the pretties, pristine days of the year for camping. Our bed felt so cozy and warm, it was hard to get up... 

We made our coffee and had a breakfast of cranberry-walnut toast, cheeses and mini taquitos...

Then, we bundled up and headed out to walked the sand desert paths... it was so beautiful, with a beautiful warm sun shining down on us and the desert revealing itself in languages of love and mystery and wonder...

We walked all the way to the lake and sat at the dock for a while, with only the company of the mallards and birds.  

What a beautiful, beautiful place this is!  But I think this was our last gypsy outing of the year, because days and nights are getting too cold already to continue roaming the world out there, plus in the following weeks we will be super busy babysitting and visiting some other places too, although by air… so that’s it!  Until spring, dear Gypsy Caravan!  Thanks for all the good times you have gifted us there!

Pondering and dreaming

It rained all day yesterday, and the landscape has attained the colors of velvety royal garments—maroon, scarlet, wine-burgundy, mustard-yellow and reddish-purple. My heart yearns for the flight of birds; to fly the earth with my eyes turned skyward and from my windows on the upper floors head over to the purple-blue mountains reaching out the heavens... mountains and sky; like some lovers embracing each other in the ether of eternity.

In the back gardens, the roses are still perfuming the atmosphere in a thousand dreams. In florid skirts I walk barefoot through scattered petals, and the scent of autumn is everywhere.  “Weave, weave the sunshine in your hair”—I hear the roses sing, and I do, I do… my soul swells in the warmth of golden days and ripe apricot colors, before melancholy settles upon our winter nights.

And how fast had seasons come and gone; how swiftly had life strolled through my hours; leaving me so full of questions to ponder about, to stretch out my arms to the heavens in an earnest desire to leave a trace of wings in the air… and ask, in reverie, Am I broken, or special, or better, or worse?  Each month comes with its own memories, and tomorrow I will be celebrating another birthday and remembering the woman who carried me in her womb an eternity ago.

Gypsy life

October 6—the sand dunes—I love the dunes in October; the immense, open landscape of golden-haired grasses, bright yellow, daisy-like blossoms and magenta flowers against the gray backdrop of those prodigious columns of sands grasping the bluest of horizons.  So, even knowing we were to brace some cold nights under the prevailing winds of the high desert, we went along with our plans and made camp among the Russian Olive trees in sand dunes that began by a flood that took place about 15,000 years ago.

Colorful pillows, cozy blankets, small plants and windblown designs in the sand under a blue sky… desert, prairie, dune, marsh and lake habitats; black-tailed jackrabbits, coyotes, mule deer and porcupines under great open skies supporting an abundance of birds.   

Colorful, big warm bed...

And one more, in case you want to show up too!

Good books and good coffee for windy days and cold nights!

And yummy food too!

To enjoy inside or outside the gypsy caravan!

That first morning after our arrival, I woke up suddenly at about 6:00am.  It was still dark as night outside, and beside me the Fisherman slept peacefully.  It felt cozy and warm inside our tent, and in the placid stillness that surrounded me, I felt this yearn for God’s presence; his voice summoning me to come to Him.  A sincere desire, a need deep in the deepest part of my soul; a yearn, and a thirst of the spirit to be filled with the fullness of God possessed me, and took me down on my knees, and I prayed—prayed for a sign of God’s nearness and favor upon His servant in the song of owls… I wanted to hear an owl as an indication of God’s nearness, until alas, from above our tent came the hunting sound I was expecting; magnificent and revealing, the song of an owl resting on one of the trees right above our humbleness and faithful hearts.

I kept kneeling there, just there, listening to the beats of my heart in the deep voices of the wild, unable to move in wonder and awe.  Then, unexpectedly, from the distance came the voices of coyotes; uniting and blending with that of the owl, forming one single song with the song of my own heart.  For hadn’t I also asked God to let me hear the voices of those creatures of the high desert?  And how beautiful, and how spiritual the moment at the break of the new day was!  My heart was overflowing with the fullness of God’s joy.  And I knew, without a doubt, that I had been with the Lord.


PS:  If you enjoy reading about our gypsy trips in our gypsy caravan, don't forget to visit my "Gypsy Dreams" blog for more!  

See you around friends!

Rain

October 4—rain, delightful rainy day.  A pitter-patter on my windows all day long, and all throughout the day the sky remained ashen and the earth leaden with a hushed, nostalgic feeling.  I stepped outside, and all of a sudden, fall arrived at my front porch…

 

Rain fell, leaves swirled and the wind sung the song of autumns...

And it seemed like it was only yesterday when the house got painted in June, and the sun was shining and the weather was sweet and yellow butterflies looked like flowers flying through the warm air.   

Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.

And how fast everything came and went this year, how quickly life strolled through my hours making new memories, and leaving me so full of questions to ponder about, to stretch out my arms to the heavens in thankfulness and in an earnest desire to leave a trace of wings in the air…