The sound of a distant Drummer. AZ

Thursday, April 14th, 2011

“Beware of thoughts that come in the night. They aren’t turned properly; they come in askew, free of sense and restriction, deriving from the most remote of sources.
That night, as I lay wondering whether I would get sleep or explosion, I got the idea instead. A man who could not make things go right could at least go. He could quit trying to get out of the way of Life. Chuck routine. Live the real jeopardy of circumstances. It was a question of dignity”
~ Blue Highways ~ [William Least Heat-Moon]

Toward Death Valley-10

Toward Death Valley-16

Right and left the Joshua’s were at a stand still as far as the horizon would allow my eyes to see and feel. Like a giant army with no beginning and no end they were. We rode through them as if the passage was meant for us. It was. I have no doubts. Undisturbed, untouched, even if their changing colors from the cotton ball clouds way up in the skies threw their shadows at times in such contrast from their lighted souls. The mountains near by, the hills at times with their precise silhouettes often with jagged edges had a dusting of snow from yesterday, Mother Nature has been busy these past days. The brown carpets of the shoulders were now traded from dry browns and beiges to yellows and reds and purples as bright as my own soul could handle.

Toward Death Valley-13

Toward Death Valley-17

The road never stopped today. It unraveled as my own spirit did emptying crowded thoughts accumulated from this urban exposure and schedules unlike any other previous times seemingly lasting too long. There was a beat present within me all day, it’s rhythm involuntary never sparing the expense of a rest went on to only slowly fade away as we approached our first destination from this route taken to Death Valley, unknown destinations ensuing. I felt welcomed, I felt the euphoria, the frenzy twisting the throttle a bit more and a bit more, a bit harder bracing the nose wind as if trying to curb my almost delirium for this first day going, going, gone.

Toward Death Valley-22

Toward Death Valley-25

I cannot explain any further, all has been beyond words today. Yes, the road has become my addiction I will not try to escape, I cannot as I have learned the rules all too well these past years. The gates are unlocked, the keys are nowhere to be now found, there are none, the rules are of Nature’s, there are no floods slowing me down from this river of Life. I will only be carried away by my own desires, my own needs when I care to want to, where I care to no want to. I smell freedom, I taste it, this abandonment to wherever, whenever to no one’s discretion but my own.

Toward Death Valley-23

Toward Death Valley-24

I played all day, yes, played like a child that had not seen his playground in times past. There was no restraints, no regulations, no restrictions. There was the sound all day of the distant drum enouncing the constant privilege of a redemption it’s taste having never left me. More hills went by, more deserts, the Joshua’s must have lost the battle as a Freeway merged into the peaceful road taken. Such roads are scarce in this part of the country. They lost with dignity bowing to the modern age weaponry of cars of ballistic speeds grinding their gears and smoking their oils on the glistening from tire heat tarmac as myself tucked in behind a semi was taking on the draft toward an exit which never came too soon.


Crowbar Cafe

Market sign in Shoshone

The mysterious silhouettes of Death Valley suddenly without fanfare appeared a bit shy at first behind a present haze. I was not going in yet today. Tomorrow it will be as from this distance such space has already left me speechless and breathless.

Toward Death Valley-9

"I have had a great deal of interest in my photography over the years, for which I am grateful. Their sales are of much importance funding this Journal. Yes, please feel free to purchase one or two… or a few. I have been adding some photos lately, there will be more as I sift through about 100,000 of them. My “Zen Gallery” is an easy one to navigate on. Take a look. For merchandise also “Smugmug” stands for quality. For contributions to defer the always rising Internet costs please use the toolbar above.”

Ara & Spirit

Be Safe and well
Peace, Love, Courage

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4 Responses to “The sound of a distant Drummer. AZ”

  1. Dan Post Says:

    Your prose along with your pictures were particularly moving today. There was a connection for me and I thank you for that. I must hit the road soon.

  2. Tom Says:

    Beautiful prose and photos. I returned to DV last Dec. for the first time in about 9 years. A wonderful place.

  3. Joe Says:


    Great to see all is well and you guys are on the road again, great pics , the one of the crown bar really grabbed my eye,


  4. Randy Says:

    As you’ve shown, it’s there for all of us if only we’d look. Thanks

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