The Desert Provides
By | Leo Anders
Issue I, June 2018
With half a flap the raven is caught by the wind, flipped upward and soaring already. It’s a strong breeze but a warm one. Copper dust stains the wind and the bird squints as it lists to the right and left, tacking steadily upward, half a flap at a time; just here and there as needed.
As a man crossing canyons under the summer’s blaze only to find a small oasis when most needed, the desert provides.
I accidentally showed up in Moab with no money after canceling my credit card due to fraud. For 2 weeks until the replacement arrived I lived on $20 I had stashed in my car. But the desert took care of me. The dumpsters provided food to eat and new pants came my way after the off-widths ate my last pair. I kept my gas tank above empty by washing dishes and got fed a few nice meals there to boot. More than all, though, I found the people.
My people, my tribe. On a quiet night we would make glarp curry with whatever we had and laugh under the stars. People gave me a reason to wake up early, to go rappelling naked at looking glass or scramble up a tower. When I needed to rest I would slackline in a friend’s backyard or watch Rick&Morty with ice cream while my friend recovers from having her tooth pulled. My tribe gave me a reason to live, on the road, to push to the top of the boldest towers in the raddest canyons, not just for the view, not just for the adventure: for the company.
We shared our dreams and our thoughts on life. We were a shoulder to cry on and a reason to laugh. And we were lovers. To us all we gave our love as freely as we could. As my buddy said “I love just to love, because of the pleasure of getting to give it. But if it does come back to me? Then Fuck Yeah!” Free love...