The Faith of a wounded Warrior [Fiction]

Monday, March 25th, 2013

Paragraphs of Daily Thoughts, some Mental Therapy and some reviews of our “well seasoned” Gear and Services we utilize. Published Weekly or so.

Sometimes this Desert here blooms my own imagination taking me on a path of fiction which I put down in words as today. A rarity doing such. And then again, could be true fiction if there is such an aspect of Life.

Desert-2 xxx

“It was a lone tree burning on the desert. A heraldic tree that the passing storm had left afire. The solitary pilgrim drawn up before it had traveled far to be here and he knelt in the hot sand and held his numbed hands out while all about in that circle attended companies of lesser auxiliaries routed forth into the inordinate day, small owls that crouched silently and stood from foot to foot and tarantulas and solpugas and vinegarroons and the vicious mygale spiders and beaded lizards with mouths black as a chowdog’s, deadly to man, and the little desert basilisks that jet blood from their eyes and the small sandvipers like seemly gods, silent and the same, in Jeda, in Babylon. A constellation of ignited eyes that edged the ring of light all bound in a precarious truce before this torch whose brightness had set back the stars in their sockets.”
~ Cormac McCarthy ~

Sunrise-2 xxx

His feet felt and looked like parchment paper while stumbling on this ground of a dry and itself cracked Desert soil. No shade in sight, it must have been over one hundred degrees. His Dog could not jump from shadows to shadows as there were none and his eyes were imploring for a change which was not going to happen. Not till evening came and the bright Sun went over the horizon. It had been a long road, yet there was no such thing, not a trace of another having gone by only maybe years ago. Simple garbs of only a white sheet covering him, his head wrapped with the extra remains while his long gray hair flowing from a breeze not strong enough to cool, only moving hot air, his long hair was a wrap of sweat from the miles covered.


A long scar from his shoulder to his knee ran as a mock sword carried in unison. A leftover from a war never won. More than a resemblance of a Tattoo, it’s pain was deep in it’s physical and more than ever right then and there of a mental one. The cactus would catch his robe, his long cane not enough to avoid them only to help him turn around and undo the catch while his dog would stop and watch him longing for a better space. There was no water along on his quest. He had not thought about it as his outcome mattered, yet, left in the hands of his Faith as the ultimate challenge and test of Life. Of survival.


His mind and blind belief had already carried him "here". His "here" was everywhere he was as he liked such a simple concept. His awareness of his past was the only aspect he was trying to evade and so far had not been successful erasing the images and the thoughts protruding so sharply against his own present will. He never thought of himself as naive even if so by now his Dog thought as such. The past had pretty much erased his common sense. He knew it, yet never felt any discouragement. He could not. His drive was taking him forward even if only from his physical weakness he was stumbling right and left but never backwards.


Total emptiness ahead, behind, anywhere his tired eyes stood upon. There was no sparks in his thinking, only waiting. He thought. He thought about not thinking. A couple hopeful clouds and on again nothing. The sounds of his past war came back with a vengeance only to make him realize he could make it through this also as he had before when wounded with his breath while mixed in with dirt he had managed to crawl on and out from the hell Life had send him in, leaving his trace of blood as his only witness, the path to his rescue.

windows a

BB Park a

He had paid his dues. Dearly. His Faith of Life carried him freely this time around and yet, never thinking about his and his Dog’s possible reversed outcome throughout such barren and desolate Journey. It was more than hope that carried him. It was this indescribable force which propelled him forward. There was no turning around as his freedom was ahead even if he could not yet see it. The last drops of his water, his gold, he shared. Like vapor it vanished in small gulps for the both of them as they looked at each other this time around without a smile.

The Moon xxx

He must have fell asleep as suddenly the skies filled with a delicate layer of clouds throwing down the rich glow of a Moon almost full. Night time transformed itself into an eerie landscape filled with his rich imagination of mountain sights edged within an horizon unlike the one they have been experiencing all day. A mirage he thought. Fake hopes maybe as again his Faith came back not wanting to believe as such. They both stood up at the same time as still in unison they supported each other and started again, one more time, walking forward with a renewed strength.

Sunset xxx

It was almost as they saw better now without the glare of the daily fireball. The dim light was creating the shadows coming alive enabling them to distinct a horizon which no more seemed a mirage as the strides became longer and easier with the present night time coolness. One last effort, one last prayer, one last thought of it all as the imaginary mental reel fast forwarded from the beginning to now, one more… The belief, the acceptance, loyalty, reliance, the confidence and a deep allegiance, all brought upon him the certainty and assurance needed. He could taste his passing over, jumping over that wall that had kept him so far behind all these years. 

flowers c

ocotillo a

flowers d

He brought up the now dried out flowers from his satchel he had picked throughout the past day. They still had some remain of Life as they ate on them for a bit more of renewed energy. He knew these would be their last steps before the end. Uncoordinated and stiff momentum, a bit longer, a bit further, he needed that taste, the one that put them on this awkward Journey one could only imagine without a finish line, a destination as so ill prepared how could only the mental desire encircle a blooming seed planted so long ago.



Both as shadows side by side, one more step, lighter skies and yet too dark to exchange a true glance of each other’s eyes, as suddenly the ground gave up and tumbling furiously toward what seemed an eternity of an abyss they both slipped away toward another unknown awaiting for them. A bark woke him up, water was gushing all around him, a gentle turmoil however as he turned around facing up while his body started to float. Life rushed through him as it had rushed through his Dog’s own Soul who understood so well ahead of him they had reached a deliverance. They had stumbled on the shores of the Rio Grande River, the pathway of others who will physically rescued them as however their mental rescue was succeeded and completed. An amazing feat he did not think of it as a Miracle only because he all along knew his Faith of Life would lead him toward such deliverance.

Waking up-2

Boquillas Canyon-24 

Boquillas Canyon-19

The Path of a wounded Warrior

All about our Gear

Solar Oven

Our Solar Oven from is one the greatest gear I use while here at “The Oasis”. It is so unfortunately too large to be carried on the sidecar, yet, does fine in a car or truck/SUV. Free cooking I always think. It is the opposite of complicated as placed on the ground with it’s folded out mirrors toward the Sun, moved westward on the hour to keep it’s projected shade in line and that is about it.

Spicy Chicken and Rice-7 xxx

It might be my imagination, all tastes better when cooked with it. I am never concerned about it’s temperature [having a hanging thermometer] as, unlike conventional ovens, there are no hot spots and all cooks evenly. There is no air movement, the meal will be moist, tender and flavorful. No power usage, no burning, safe and can also be used like a crock pot if directed where the sun will be and then on walk away from it. If turned often the cooking times are just about the same as a regular oven.

Spicy Chicken and Rice-8

Spicy Chicken and Rice-9

I bake my bread in it, any recipe only holding back vegetables as I like them fairly uncooked. Also great gear to have throughout emergency situations, my only wish being they would make a much smaller one which we could carry with us at all times as also water can be purified with it if needed. I have read from a few who wanted to built their own, truly not worth the trouble as it is constructed exactly the way it should be including the gimbaled tray. I think everyone that has a backyard, a little piece of land, free sunshine, should have one. It would save much power and energy so available as is for free.

Stay well,
               Ara and Spirit


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2 Responses to “The Faith of a wounded Warrior [Fiction]”

  1. texascindy Says:

    Love the story and the pics of Indian Head. Goes together really well. You have wonderful way with words! Don’t stop writing, fact or fiction. It’s all part of who you are. Thank you for sharing your life!

  2. Randy Says:

    Great story.

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