Written Tuesday, February 16, 2016 - Moab, Utah
A crunch of sandstone adds to the harmony of morning birdlet cries as I lift my coffee from its perch and bring it to my lips - its warmth immediately appreciated. As I take a sip, a rush of peace sweeps through; I close my eyes, letting the liquid course through me, warmth and energy flowing, abounding. I take a deep breath in, reveling in the fact that a cup of cheap coffee in camp is far superior to any elsewhere. Sunshine gleams off my face, a winter’s morning hinting at the seasons to come. I reopen my eyes and slowly glance over the grand breadth which sits before me, all golden and glowing in the morning rays, an expanse so wide and endless that an entire year of gazing could not capture every detail.
The chirps have gotten quieter, now more distant and more sporadic, and the stunning stillness settles in my stupefied mind, a soundtrack so apt for this soul-shaking splendor. I place my coffee back on the sandstone, feeling its thud echo through my feet which lift me up out of my chair as I spin around to face the opposite, a scene of matching magnitude. I raise my arms into the sky, letting out a deep belly wake-up cry as I stretch upwards, the cry growing louder, more unleashed, more proud, its waves reverberating off the redrock monolith which similarly reaches up towards the heavens. A grin returns to my face as I see the orange dirt road glowing in earnest, twisting and shrinking into the horizon I’ve yet to explore.
Sand crunches beneath my trail runners as I walk back over to my stove and reignite it, placing on a pot for oatmeal, the hiss of the stove now adding to the morning soundtrack. I sit back down and continue to write and sip and smile as the birds’ voices return excitedly. Before long the water is boiling and I snatch it from the stove, pouring in oats and nearly kicking over my morning brew in the process. My stomach growls as the oats thicken aside me, ready for the day’s fuel. I turn back to the east and feel how high the sun has risen, its rays bright and vibrant, soaking into my thawing soul. I grab my pot, take a huge whiff of my meal, the brown sugar smell enlivening me, and I take a huge sporkful, and then another, and one more, sitting back into my chair, sipping my coffee, smiling out at the unknown yet familiar horizon. What a perfect morning.