I grew up on the edge of this desert, learned to drive on it's crackled surface and felt the salty dust in my eyes more times than I can count. I have gotten stuck, up to the truck's axles, in the sticky mud that sneaks up on you. I have watched the heat and light play tricks on the mountains from a school bus window between Empire and Gerlach after school each day.
This playa is in me deep. Even if it has been almost 20 years since I called this place home, it is part of who I am and who I was.
I have a lot of thoughts stirring around after the weekend visit to this place I called home for many years of my childhood. How did such a rural space, such a dramatic landscape, shape the me of today. I need time to process them a bit more. But I wanted to get something down in writing, for fear that it will slip away, like the dust trail from a distant car did in the sky that afternoon did.
I'll be sharing more photos and more about why we were out there later this week.
It was a wonderful weekend, lots of giggles and play time.
