The West Texas desert is a mysterious place.
There is a timeless and desolate quality that has always attracted me.
Maybe its the emptiness and the silence that provides an escape from the pretensions of a normal routine.
Big Bend National Park in particular is one of my favorite places in the world. The vast expanses of dirt, rock, the immensity of the canyons, and the long horizon of mountain silhouettes along the skyline are humbling to anyone who steps into this realm. The uninhabitable and remote landscape somehow provides me comfort. Perhaps because it allows me to feel a better sense of scale within near parts of the universe
I’ve been here many times, but this is the first time I’ve navigated the park alone.
The desert is the perfect place to find silence and peace.
“Getting lost was not a matter of geography so much as identity, a passionate desire, even an urgent need, to become no one and anyone, to shake off the shackles that remind you who you are, who others think you are.”
― Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost
My last day of my visit to the park, December 31, 2014, was a one of the coldest days of the year. I made it out just as a frigid winter ice storm blanketed all of West Texas.