I am inspired by songs of fire and ash, describing feelings I have not known.
I am inspired when the sky is grey and the rain unnoticeable.
I am inspired most, however, in moments like this: When we are where the wheatgrass grows, the dogs are free and there is no one but you and me.
We rose this morning, though not by sunlight. Searching our closets for three or four layers that feel adequately warm enough, we decide we're ready to go.
About 50 minutes to a land without much to offer, at times, feels like too long a drive for just a quick hike. However the first leap through the grass and smile across their face reminds us there's not many lengths we wouldn't go to for that.
With hills and clouds, the terrain and "real feel" are ever changing. Oh yes! Layers.
The feel of a thermal, waffle textured sleeve against the goosebumps on my arm is flattened by my favorite sweater. Like an awkward hug, I press its warmth into me and suddenly my body feels ready to move.
Lacing his boots, Mas looks to me. "Are you ready?"
A long sleeve, heather grey—almost cream—shirt lays on him as easily as a smile appears on his face.
These weekend interruptions—we don't seek an escape, just a break in our day to day routine coming at just the right time, providing just the right amount of relief—feel sacred. In these dark months, we're forced to begin our day with artificial sources of light. But not on these days. We are awakened by the sound of little toes scratching against a dense cotton bed cover. My dog, Xavi, rises on his own schedule but tolerates adjusting to ours. He scratches, circles five times and lays back down. For minutes, that almost seem to make up for the hours we were robbed of throughout the week, we lay in bed planning our excursion for the day ahead. We list out various off road trails and hiking spots. Finally, we settle on one. I can count on at least one day of our weekend spent in these wheat fields.
Sometimes I wonder, do they look forward to it too?
The gentle frost eventually saturates the ground and the sun exposes itself. Greens, browns and blues—I don't think it's a coincidence these are my favorite colors. I watch how the dogs tread through, daring to stir up the secrets of this space. They leave what lies dormant alone and awaken that which aches for movement. Through them, we are educated on how to move in a place that is not ours, though for these few hours it feels as though it could be.
The warmth falls on us with a few miles still to go. Clothing that allows us to move freely, carelessly and is easy to remove (or add) as the weather changes, is essential.
Sometimes our outings are small, like this one, sometimes they are five day camping trips completely off grid. With respect and a feeling of responsibility for the places we explore, we make every effort we can to align our life when we're on grid with the feelings of connection we feel out here. This comes in many forms, but one of the most significant is how and what we buy.
I can't remember the last clothing purchase either of us made. Perhaps that's part of what instigated this order from Bearded Goat. We look not only for clothing that meets the demands of our adventures, but that will last for many of them. Matching the detail you find in nature and a display of creativity that only people that spend any real amount of time outdoors have, this gear is our go to for quick hikes, nights around a fire or long weeks in the wilderness.