Travel With Balls…Quietly

Back from a wonderful long weekend in Death Valley.   We explored the salt flats and hiked the craters, marveled over the sunsets and made a visit to Scotty’s Castle, spotted coyotes and even a kit fox, but what William and I reveled in most was the exquisite silence.   

Superbowl Sunday, when everyone else was sequestered in their hotels rooms or congregating in saloons to watch the game, we took some picnic goodies, a bottle of wine and a blanket and headed for the moonlight soaked Mesquite sand dunes.  As we lay under a sky studded with searingly bright stars, the stillness was all-encompassing and awe-inspiring.  During one 30-minute period we didn’t hear a single thing — no cars, no voices, no horns, no planes, no barking dogs — not even the sound of the wind.   It was the most complete silence either of us had ever experienced and it felt absolutely sacred, as if our souls had been catapulted into the farthest reaches of the cosmos.  The reverie was eventually broken by the low rumble of some distant plane passing through the sky, but the night remained intensely quiet other than the occasional sound of a car’s tires crunching over the desolate stretch of highway.  After a couple of hours the cold chased us back to our car but it was such a magical and mystical experience that we returned to the dunes the next night to again savor the flavors of being alone in nature.

Sometimes, all it takes to Travel With Balls is the ability to sit quietly and just BE.

Peace & Blessings,
Jan