A Cure for Wanderlust?

The crew just got back from a week of work out in West Texas and New Mexico. We had a great time out there, surrounded by and working in the mountains. The views were breathtaking and put all of us in a mild state of ecstasy that took the edge off of the 15 hour days. I got out there half a day early and was able to run around in the Sacramento Mountains for a little bit before heading down into the valley to hike in White Sands National Park in the early evening. The entire trip floored me but the first day was by far the highlight.

When I was a teenager I absolutely could not comprehend why anyone would choose to live more than 20 miles from the beach. I can remember making a list ranking all 50 states according to how I perceived their worth. New Jersey, where I grew up was #1 followed by Florida, California, Hawaii, and Massachussets. I don't remember where I had New Mexico ranked but I know it was in the bottom five, with most of the rest of the non-coastal West filling out the bottom half. I can remember my Dad laughing and shaking his head as he read my list. "But they don't have beaches", I protested. Youth is, as they say, indeed wasted on the young. What I wouldn't give to be able to put my current brain in my 18 year old body. I would have taken the road trip of a lifetime, and with the exception of what was needed to get out of the state, none of it would have included New Jersey.

White Sands sits in a flat desert valley surrounded by mountains to the East, North and West. It is a large deposit of white sand that is constantly being sculpted by the elements and at dusk, when I was there, it is essentially a giant white canvas upon which the deteriorating light lays an evolving work of shadow and muted pastels. It is also a place where you can leave the only visible footprints or sign of man and get far enough away that it is so quiet that all you hear is the ringing in your ears (which actually was very loud, having just driven 500+ miles with the window down and the stereo cranked). To add to the scenery, thunderheads were building over the mountains on all 3 sides and the light played off the ones in the East and peeked in and out of the ones in the West like a bank of spotlights at a rock show. I was forced to walk forward in circles just to take it all in and by the time my head made it 360 degrees around the view in front of me had changed again. I felt as if I were walking on holy ground.

As I walked through the sand I suddenly wanted to see it in every possible situation, what does it look like at sunrise, at high noon, in the dead of winter, on a cloudy day, in the rain, in the snow, with a red sunset, with a pink sunset, in the middle of the night? I didn't just want to see this place, I wanted to know it. I wanted to set up in a lawn chair with a year's supply of grilled cheese and Dr. Pepper and do nothing but watch the seasons come and go from every possible angle until I had fully experienced the place. But unfortunately, I had work to do and I don't think I could get the kids to sit still for that long. Old age I thought wistfully, is wasted on the old.