View from a Sleeping Bag
“You were made and set here to give voice to this, your own astonishment.”
—Annie Dillard
I hear Dorea’s pad crinkle when she rolls over and Moni’s mini sigh-snores sing softly in my left ear, parts of the music of the night—our third on this trip to Joshua Tree National Park, and our first lined up “cowgirl camping” style, under the stars, tents forsaken.
My spendy new sleeping pad provides a level of comfort I have never known when sleeping on the ground—ahhhh. My hip bones don’t ache in the morning and my toes are toasty all night long, even in the wee hours of morning, those chilly hours when I pull my shirt up around my nose because its tip gets cold peeking out of my sleeping bag. Turning onto my side, hoping the rustling doesn’t wake my companions, I think about taking another peek at the stars. They have been glorious this night, with no netting between me and them. But as my eyes flutter open, it is the half-moon rising I spy instead. It is lustrous behind a lacy curtain of clouds, and so beautiful that I gasp. Then hope, again, not to have wakened Dorea and Moni.
As I lie here, snug and warm, watching the glowing clouds shift with the breeze and the moon’s slow and steady climb, I think of the many amazing views I have seen and the many sweet songs I have heard from the cocoon of my sleeping bag.
- Distant lightning in the chasm of the Grand Canyon.
- The Milky Way glowing from horizon to horizon on dark desert nights.
- A marmot’s morning chittering from the hollow trunk of a nearby snag.
- An Alaskan sunset in the shadows of Denali (yes, in a sleeping bag, but perched upon a lounge chair, wine glass in hand, while our wilderness guide cooked dinner).
- A crisp November night on the flat roof of my home in New Mexico watching the Leonid Meteors streak across the sky.
- Almost putting my hand on a camouflaged horned toad as I slid out of my sleeping bag on a cool desert morning.
- And like that night, so many other moonrises—from the barest of slivers to full moons bright enough to wake me with their light—live as treasured memories of car camping and backpacking trips with beloved friends and family.
What is the thread that sews all this together? Nurture in nature.
Places without air or light pollution. Time away from media—social and otherwise. I am deeply grateful for deep breaths of clean air, dark night skies, time to focus on the beauty around me, and the most important thing to put my attention on is placing my feet firmly with each step I take, literally. Maybe metaphorically too, because I come back from these times of nurturance feeling more solid in myself.
Now, more than ever, I need to nurture and strengthen myself. Perhaps you find your strength in nature too—whether hiking a rugged trail or listening to a songbird trill while you sip your morning coffee. Nature has the power to heal us, and we have the power to protect it. May we find it in ourselves to protect our beloved National Parks, National Monuments, and many other public lands—my backyard and yours—from those who don’t understand their value or the value of their stewards (like Park Rangers and wilderness fire fighters and research scientists, to name just a few, who are being let go by the thousands under the guise of saving money (when one less presidential golf outing would pay for any number of their annual salaries)).
So, I’ll take my strength from those nights in a sleeping bag, and use it to fight for the places where I love to do so, and more. What are you moved to fight for?
National Parks are such special places – thank you for sharing these pictures from your trips!
Excellent post and photos and wonderful artwork by Holly.
Love this, Deb.
I am moved to fight for all sentient beings who we as humans previously lived in harmony with: specifically the wolves and wild cats, and of course the horned toads and sage grouse, the Joshua trees and redwoods, the gray whales and fishes and corals and all who struggle for survival in the vast plastic filled oceans. They all deserve honor and protection. Will any of us beings survive the chaos of human corruption and greed on this, our beautiful blue planet? I feel so small.
Thank you for reminding us that there is still nature to refill our souls.
Glorious! You inspire me. Although I do not have your stamina, I used what I had of mine yesterday and walked a trail in nature preserve locally. Now to write about or return with small notebook and sketch it. I cannot wait to read your next book!
I felt like I was out there with you when reading this!
I am also nurtured by nature, and at this time of year in the Blue Ridge Mountains, its by the small wildflowers. I’ve heard some are coming through the mud deposited by Helene’s flooding and landslides, but haven’t witnessed that myself yet. I hope to get out there this weekend.
Thank you for your inspiration!
Awesome detail in your post, Deb. I really felt I was there and the pictures are lovely. I envy your stamina and drive to soak up every morsel of nature each time you encounter it.