18th Dec –Feb 5th 2012
The Rock Capital Of The World
We have just spent 2 hours in an RV line waiting to dump the black tank, that’s our poop tank! The RVS have filled up this land from north to south and east to west, and now everything we do involves a line and a wait. Quartzsite has changed from the sleepy town ofDecemberto a crazy, hectic town filled with people who are either selling something or buying something. The land is literally filled with all sizes of RVS, from the huge and monstrous to truck campers, to vans to tents. It really seems like a carnival or a circus has come to the town ofQuartzsiteand they have erected small and large tents for all the hundreds and hundreds of vendors. The rest of the area surrounding the town in all directions is like an enormous RV park teeming with thousands of RVS.
Yet the campsite we discovered on Dec 18th 2011, our arrival date still maintains its own peace and serenity, perched on the edge of the desert. We are on the southern section of the Bureau of Land management desert and in that section we are one of the few campers on the very end of the southern sector. I hope that makes sense. After leavingDeath Valley, it felt right to send down some roots and stay put for a while.
One aspect of my relationship with Gerry, is that we seem to be on the same page when it comes to our traveling plans and where we want to go. It seems that we both felt the same way about being here for the next month. In fact such were our rooting needs that we went to town to purchase a bucket, rake and gloves! Armed with our new tools we set about gardening the rocks all around our RV. This rock gardening activity, sometimes known as “hardscape” is commonplace in snowbirds yards. We organized the endless supply of rocks into piles and made borders with them. Whoever was here before us had started the process and we simply continued it. By the time we were done we had a driveway, 2 driveway posts, garden plots marked out and surrounding the indigenous weed of creosote, smaller trail heads going out into the desert and a new fire pit in front of the RV. This venture of ours took a few days. There were so many rocks to move, an abundance of rocks, including the beautiful white quartz stones that lie around this land. Our nearest neighbors are 100 yards or so away and it is very private. Our front view is open and wide and includes the desert and hills and numerous trees like the Ironwood,( a very slow growing tree) and the Palo Verde tree. We are perched on a little hill and looking out 20 yards or so from us, is a large Ironwood tree. Looking at that tree, I told Gerry, it would be great to use the white quartz stones and build a beautiful medicine wheel around or near the tree. Going down to inspect the area, I noticed something white on the ground on the other side of the tree. I ducked under the branches and stood literally with my mouth open! There partially exposed under the desert dirt and dried brush, was a large ring of white stones and as I walked around it a medicine wheel revealed itself to me. It was already there defined with only white quartz stone, just what I was going to make. You know how it is when these things happen, it really is a moment of suspended time and a feeling of an unseen world making its presence felt. I felt that a huge gift from the universe had just been given to me. (well it was a few days just past my birthday!!!)
Before clean upAfter clean upAfter clean up
(Even Gerry was amazed by this)
The next day I returned and it only took a couple of hours to remove the dead brush, brush away some dirt and add a few more rocks to reveal a shining white medicine wheel. I moved right in that day and from the center of my new safe and sacred space I watched the sun go down. Now I felt right at home. There is nothing like a medicine wheel to ground and root you and to create a special space to meditate, read and write.
Gerry started again to fix and improve the RV, and every other day we would head into town and wander from vendor to vendor, admiring and trying not to spend money on all the things we felt we needed, but didn’t really need.
We had acquired a new bike, so I could cycle into town and do some classes, like Zumba dance, Western line dancing and jewelry making. Well that was the plan except there wasn’t enough people to make a jewelry class, so I substituted a meditation class instead and then had to drop the western line dance and that’s what happens when you plan too much, it all goes out the window and then I guess you’re doing what you are supposed to do??? Something like that?
From December through January, the town started expanding slowly, but then there would be spurts of growth that occurred overnight, until one day you look at each other with big eyes and realize that there really isn’t any more parking in town and it is taking so much longer to drive anywhere, plus there is a steady stream of RVS coming from all directions looking for campsites. Our new town home was to be shared with thousands of other people fromCanadaand all over theUSA. The attraction was the huge displays of gems, crystals and rock, raw and polished and made into beautiful jewelry. Plus hundreds of other vendors selling a large variety of merchandise including socks, honey, flags, kitchen utensils, carpets, rugs, bags, T shirts, quilts, books, this that and the other. In fact we were now in the middle of a huge on going swapmeet, that kept changing every 2 weeks or so. The heavily impacted time is in the middle of January.
Too , too much.
We would take small sections of vendors at a time and within a couple of hours we would be exhausted at looking at everything and head home to our very, very peaceful campsite to recuperate.
And somehow time was moving and flowing, even though the desert seemed the same unending, silent, sparse even bleak in places. Yet here and there a stately saguaro would draw your eye and lead your gaze upwards to a serene blue sky that stretched endlessly above you. It is always the bigger picture in the desert, nothing confining, nothing restrictive. This landscape is always so much bigger than your itty, bitty life.
I was well aware that I was merely tolerated.
There are many ATV trails up and around these hills and I found myself hiking on different ones every other day or so. I always took my cell phone in case I would have to call Gerry and say… I am lost, please find me… or I cannot move because my butt is raw after sliding down a steep incline… or…. I am plain tired and need to take a nap … or…
But none of the above ever happened, and I still take my cell, and my water bottle, just in case.
Lately I have taken to using my ipod and turning up the music, to mask the silence of the desert. There are just those days when you want to block out the silence or ones inane senseless mind chatter. I have taken to tuning into my mother landAfrica. I understand a word here and there but the rhythmic sounds ofAfricahave spoken to me as I wander through the desert. I found some petroglyphs on a small cliff wall and as Africa sang in my ears, I swayed and moved my hips, lifted my knees and arms, dancing back and forth, circling around my hiking stick this way and that, admiring the rock picture forms and weaving them in with the music blending the Ancients and Africa and feeling them come together in some form of recognition and bonding.
( I don’t think anyone saw me).
Jan 22nd.
After a night of strong winds I headed out on one of the trails again. All the dirt trails had been wiped clean by the wind, and I was able to follow a coyote spoor across the hills up and down, it began to feel like I had a little companion who would disappear and then reappear time and time again. Then the loud ATVS appeared and so did my invisible companion.
Jan 24th
I am missing water. Not drinking water, moving, flowing water. I am missing the water that flows through sparkling, streams and rivers. I am missing the sounds of water swishing and slushing against the rocks, or tumbling and cascading down falls. Any body of water as long as it moves and flows. Just thinking and visualizing the ocean seems overwhelmingly powerful and immense right now. Another world. A fluid world. I am thirsty for a more fluid, softer world.
Gerry takes such good care of us. It is he who monitors our water situation and goes every 5 days to fill our 50 gallon water bag. The bag has a pump to pump it into our holding tanks and then we can shower again. We empty the black water at the dump station every 2 and a half weeks or so. It’s at times like these that our whole camp is packed up again, just leaving the mat and chairs as we return with empty tanks. He never complains about this, doing these ongoing utilities tasks. Anything that goes wrong he is there to take care of it.
I am so fortunate.
Vicky and Tom are in Quartzsite, and are on their way to visit us. Wow, we now know 3 couples in Quartzsite and a South African popped by yesterday, after seeing our flying South African flag. We had a great time talking about all our favourite foods, places, the changes inSouth Africaand so forth. We sent him to the Flag Man of Quartzsite, Stan who is also South African, to purchase a flag. Such is life here in the desert surrounded by a carnival. We were going to leave this Tuesday but we have decided to stay for another week or so. We can do this, you know, we are snowbirds and can fly whichever way we want. Dare I say I am a little attached to our little home perched on the desert with our own Medicine Wheel.
Jan 30th.
Today I stepped off the ATV trail and as I stepped onto the sparsely covered black desert rocks I noticed a tiny flash of purple. Could this be true, I got down close to the ground and yes a tiny spindly green plant poked its head above the stones and proudly elevated its beautiful, purple petals to the world.
A flower!!!!
In the desert.
It must be spring!!
That same day I saw two butterflies dart around the RV.
It must be early spring!
Tom and Vicky have left to find work, and Gerry and I wonder more and more these days what the future holds for us. As yet, nothing definite for us for this spring/summer/fall work in theSanta Cruzarea.
