I enjoyed our last voyage to the sand dunes so much last weekend, that this weekend I beg the Fisherman to set out for the desert again… and thus, we did.

Strong winds blew incessantly lifting up sands everywhere and with such impetus, that from inside our cozy tent it sounded like a furious sea, with big mad waves crashing onto some lofty sea cliff.  Tumbleweeds toppled down and rolled around trailers and tables and every wall in our gypsy caravan groaned and shock violently.  So pugnaciously winds blew, and howled, that we thought about packing everything up and head back home, but the dunes had taunted us with sunshine and coyote songs and we decided to take a chance and stay.

I had bought new blankets and colorful mandalas to decorate and spice up a bit our gypsy caravan, and thus, both sleeping quarters got a beautiful makeover.  New softer, puffier pillows and pillowcases too.

The campground wasn’t as crowded as some other times and we drove down to the sand dunes and walked around beautiful solitary spaces sheltered in the flora of dunes and lake that reminded me so much of the wildernesses of Israel. Then came back to our cozy tent to hide from the wind, and made us a late lunch of Italian wedding soup, tamales and Pot-stickers...

That afternoon we read and worked on our computers and ate chocolate chip cookies and drank lattes, until we couldn’t hear the wind blowing outside any longer, and everything calmed down and the night came upon our gypsy caravan in soft murmurs.  It was cold and dark in the desert, but inside our cozy cocoon it was the most pleasant place in the whole wide world, warm, comfy, snug, comfortable, colorful, romantic and inviting…

The following morning turned out to be one of the pretties, pristine days of the year for camping. Our bed felt so cozy and warm, it was hard to get up... 

We made our coffee and had a breakfast of cranberry-walnut toast, cheeses and mini taquitos...

Then, we bundled up and headed out to walked the sand desert paths... it was so beautiful, with a beautiful warm sun shining down on us and the desert revealing itself in languages of love and mystery and wonder...

We walked all the way to the lake and sat at the dock for a while, with only the company of the mallards and birds.  

What a beautiful, beautiful place this is!  But I think this was our last gypsy outing of the year, because days and nights are getting too cold already to continue roaming the world out there, plus in the following weeks we will be super busy babysitting and visiting some other places too, although by air… so that’s it!  Until spring, dear Gypsy Caravan!  Thanks for all the good times you have gifted us there!

October 6—the sand dunes—I love the dunes in October; the immense, open landscape of golden-haired grasses, bright yellow, daisy-like blossoms and magenta flowers against the gray backdrop of those prodigious columns of sands grasping the bluest of horizons.  So, even knowing we were to brace some cold nights under the prevailing winds of the high desert, we went along with our plans and made camp among the Russian Olive trees in sand dunes that began by a flood that took place about 15,000 years ago.

Colorful pillows, cozy blankets, small plants and windblown designs in the sand under a blue sky… desert, prairie, dune, marsh and lake habitats; black-tailed jackrabbits, coyotes, mule deer and porcupines under great open skies supporting an abundance of birds.   

Colorful, big warm bed...

And one more, in case you want to show up too!

Good books and good coffee for windy days and cold nights!

And yummy food too!

To enjoy inside or outside the gypsy caravan!

That first morning after our arrival, I woke up suddenly at about 6:00am.  It was still dark as night outside, and beside me the Fisherman slept peacefully.  It felt cozy and warm inside our tent, and in the placid stillness that surrounded me, I felt this yearn for God’s presence; his voice summoning me to come to Him.  A sincere desire, a need deep in the deepest part of my soul; a yearn, and a thirst of the spirit to be filled with the fullness of God possessed me, and took me down on my knees, and I prayed—prayed for a sign of God’s nearness and favor upon His servant in the song of owls… I wanted to hear an owl as an indication of God’s nearness, until alas, from above our tent came the hunting sound I was expecting; magnificent and revealing, the song of an owl resting on one of the trees right above our humbleness and faithful hearts.

I kept kneeling there, just there, listening to the beats of my heart in the deep voices of the wild, unable to move in wonder and awe.  Then, unexpectedly, from the distance came the voices of coyotes; uniting and blending with that of the owl, forming one single song with the song of my own heart.  For hadn’t I also asked God to let me hear the voices of those creatures of the high desert?  And how beautiful, and how spiritual the moment at the break of the new day was!  My heart was overflowing with the fullness of God’s joy.  And I knew, without a doubt, that I had been with the Lord.


PS:  If you enjoy reading about our gypsy trips in our gypsy caravan, don't forget to visit my "Gypsy Dreams" blog for more!  

See you around friends!

September 22—Silver Creek.  Autumn is a time of harvest, and of gathering together, it is a time of sowing and of scattering; a time of the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step you made and of hushed, crisp air, and it is also a time for the gypsies to head out one (or perhaps two) more time before the coming of winter, to be with nature and the glories surrounding this precious world. 

Thus, this time, we went faraway and high away, in beautiful Peace Valley at an elevation of 4,490 feet.  It was frightening to look to your side of the unpaved winding road and find yourself within merely inches from such a huge plunge down a ravine of steep mountains and a forest so densely forested with conifers that it almost seemed bottomless.  

And what a beautiful campground that was when we got there!  Situated among a mixed-growth lodgepole pine forest and a dense vegetation in shades of orange, as gorgeous autumn tossed its rainbow-tints of beauty everywhere.

We set up camp and got ready to prepare dinner, for we were famished with hunger after our long trip and perilous journey.

Then we got on our bikes and when for a ride around both campgrounds.  At the hot springs resort we went to the general store and got some ice cream, then we rode down to check the hot springs pool, volleyball and basketball courts, and playground and horseshoe pits.  Down at the river we stopped again and walked around, making sure that there were enough water pockets for the Fisherman to cast a line later on… anglers in the area cast for whitefish and rainbow trout and the Fisherman could hardly wait to try his luck!

We went to bed early, although sleep was hard to come by with all the amount of noise and racket coming from some over energized children next to our gypsy caravan, frolicking and shouting among themselves, almost up to midnight.  But all in all, we love sleeping in our gypsy caravan, and now that we have changed beds and are closer to the heater, what a difference that has made!  

We woke to a beautiful Saturday morning.  I read all morning—just taking it easy, meditating and contemplating all the beautiful colors around me while the Fisherman fished.  

In the afternoon, we put on our swimming suits and headed down to the hot springs pool.  The water enters the pool at 100 F. and exits the pool at about 97 F. The pool holds 180,000 gallons of water. This type of pool is known as a "skim pool." The water flows in one side of the pool and out the other, changing the entire volume of water in about 6 hours. It was the perfect temperature and although the bottom and sides of the pool are formed from the natural rock, you float on your floater and your feet don’t have to touch the rock if you don’t want to.  How relaxing and awesome it felt.

Naturally, after dinner, the Fisherman set out again for another fishing outing, and this time he took me with him.  We got on our car and went onto the unpaved road to another mile or so to an open place where years ago we boondocked with our kids and some friends.  The river there runs low and beautiful and everywhere you looked it was this immense expanse of everything lovely and free under the broad wing of God.

That night, for the very first time ever in my life, I fall sleep being lullabied by the mystifying songs of owls…  the hoo-hoohoo-hoo sounds the last notes to enter the unconsciousness.