"We are one continuous nation, no matter our faults."
You know, that's a masterpiece transitional sentence you wrote, tying in the geology with the social. It's one you should be very proud of, and I bet you are! :)
Your writing is beautifully touching, especially with the contrastingly harsh subjects that draw you and your family’s interests. I hope you’re always keeping a few salty tears in your eyes, including your mind’s eye, to protect your vision, perspective and sense of being as a critically important part of something even grander. There is a silver lining to being “on the run” in search of peace. There is a special sense of belonging within the solitude, even when amongst your closest loved ones. When challenging our deepest beliefs and preconceived notions of how the universe works through experience, we better understand ourselves as a small yet important part of this universe.
I have often saved your articles in a growing list of “Favorites” so much so that it has devalued the essence of the word. Your work and efforts are shaping and developing more than just you and your family. I have no doubt that many of your readers have become more knowledgeable, thoughtful, insightful and compassionate to the world we find ourselves in. Thank you for everything you’ve done and stay safe on your remarkable journey beyond your comfort zone.
Like many of my fellow scientists, I enjoyed listening to Art Bell. You never got the impression that he bought into any of this, but he was a master at egging it on, very respectfully, amongst his guests and callers. My favorite episode came shortly after Jerry Falwell (I think) declared that the anti-Christ was possibly already alive somewhere on Earth. So, Art opened up a special line for those who thought they might know who it was, or if they thought "they" were it. Well, you can imagine how the calls went.
Love your writing, Sarah. My heart often aches for you, hoping you will find peace in a world where it doesn't come naturally.
I never cry, because I'm a man. But I did, inside my head when I read this. The parts about your kids got me. I too have a son and a daughter. Son is on his own and my girl is gone forever. I understand your tears. Life is fleeting and it must cherished with those close to you. This article is a love story. A brilliant one.
This article made me nostalgic. For all the road trips that may look different the next time we are able to go there, and for the simple pleasures like looking up at the starry sky and being amazed by the beautiful yellow flowers of the desert. Take care of yourself Sarah.
I hope you and your children get to see (if you haven't already) the Bristlecone Pine Forest, which is a most amazing place. Talk about surviving in the harshest of conditions! And your comment about being in the lake and holding your son's hand brought big fat nostalgic tears to MY eyes. I have two precious sons, now both in their late 20s, who--thank goodness--have never lost even a tiny bit of the wonderfulness they came into the world with. One of them is getting married in just a few weeks! I'm happy for them both, as they move forward to build their own beautiful lives, and grateful that they are healthy and have hearts full of compassion and decency. But the truth is, just thinking about how quickly the time we had together went by, when we were still all living under one roof and especially when they were young enough to still hold my hand, makes me cry. I also cry, of course--a very different sort of crying--when I think about the horrors they will likely face in the future, on top of all the horrors we are already seeing and, at least some of us, experiencing. So many tears. Better than drying up and blowing away, I suppose. Well, my very best wishes and love and gratitude to you always, Sarah. You have given so many of us so much! Please be safe!!
Sarah, you have managed to describe the ineffable in the five paragraphs that begin with: “But there is nothing to capture the feeling…”, and ends with: “…it was almost too much beauty to bear.”.
Accurately.
“What’s more likely,” I said, “is that the rest of the world is going to look like Death Valley.”
Your understanding of this remarkable landscape, its power to affect our very notions of being, is so poignant, and beautifully described. Death Valley is stripped-down to the bones of nature’s fierce beauty, and its simultaneously fierce indifference. Thank you for your description of the lake, so improbable in that context, and which I’ve imagined would be both wonderful and disconcerting to experience. May we all keep finding ways to touch base with ourselves. Your kids are lucky to have you.
Your prose guts me and lays me flat on the desert floor, staring up at the milky way, cursing satellites, tears sliding down my face at the beauty of it all. Our children, this earth. I am not religious, but I pray to baby Jesus that he keeps you and your sweet family safe. If you ever need to make the run for the Northern border, we have sanctuary and rocks.
"We are one continuous nation, no matter our faults."
You know, that's a masterpiece transitional sentence you wrote, tying in the geology with the social. It's one you should be very proud of, and I bet you are! :)
Hi Sarah,
Your writing is beautifully touching, especially with the contrastingly harsh subjects that draw you and your family’s interests. I hope you’re always keeping a few salty tears in your eyes, including your mind’s eye, to protect your vision, perspective and sense of being as a critically important part of something even grander. There is a silver lining to being “on the run” in search of peace. There is a special sense of belonging within the solitude, even when amongst your closest loved ones. When challenging our deepest beliefs and preconceived notions of how the universe works through experience, we better understand ourselves as a small yet important part of this universe.
I have often saved your articles in a growing list of “Favorites” so much so that it has devalued the essence of the word. Your work and efforts are shaping and developing more than just you and your family. I have no doubt that many of your readers have become more knowledgeable, thoughtful, insightful and compassionate to the world we find ourselves in. Thank you for everything you’ve done and stay safe on your remarkable journey beyond your comfort zone.
With kindest and deepest respect,
Jonathan Jay Stec
My god this is some powerful writing. Thank you for making me laugh, moving me to tears and calling things what they are.
Very nice piece.
Like many of my fellow scientists, I enjoyed listening to Art Bell. You never got the impression that he bought into any of this, but he was a master at egging it on, very respectfully, amongst his guests and callers. My favorite episode came shortly after Jerry Falwell (I think) declared that the anti-Christ was possibly already alive somewhere on Earth. So, Art opened up a special line for those who thought they might know who it was, or if they thought "they" were it. Well, you can imagine how the calls went.
Love your writing, Sarah. My heart often aches for you, hoping you will find peace in a world where it doesn't come naturally.
I never cry, because I'm a man. But I did, inside my head when I read this. The parts about your kids got me. I too have a son and a daughter. Son is on his own and my girl is gone forever. I understand your tears. Life is fleeting and it must cherished with those close to you. This article is a love story. A brilliant one.
Sarah,
Thanks for letting us be passengers on your magical mystery tour. You are the perfect tour guide!❤️
This article made me nostalgic. For all the road trips that may look different the next time we are able to go there, and for the simple pleasures like looking up at the starry sky and being amazed by the beautiful yellow flowers of the desert. Take care of yourself Sarah.
This made me laugh - A nutjob conspiracy theorist, and also Art Bell.
I hope you and your children get to see (if you haven't already) the Bristlecone Pine Forest, which is a most amazing place. Talk about surviving in the harshest of conditions! And your comment about being in the lake and holding your son's hand brought big fat nostalgic tears to MY eyes. I have two precious sons, now both in their late 20s, who--thank goodness--have never lost even a tiny bit of the wonderfulness they came into the world with. One of them is getting married in just a few weeks! I'm happy for them both, as they move forward to build their own beautiful lives, and grateful that they are healthy and have hearts full of compassion and decency. But the truth is, just thinking about how quickly the time we had together went by, when we were still all living under one roof and especially when they were young enough to still hold my hand, makes me cry. I also cry, of course--a very different sort of crying--when I think about the horrors they will likely face in the future, on top of all the horrors we are already seeing and, at least some of us, experiencing. So many tears. Better than drying up and blowing away, I suppose. Well, my very best wishes and love and gratitude to you always, Sarah. You have given so many of us so much! Please be safe!!
Beautiful essay.
Sarah, you have managed to describe the ineffable in the five paragraphs that begin with: “But there is nothing to capture the feeling…”, and ends with: “…it was almost too much beauty to bear.”.
Accurately.
“What’s more likely,” I said, “is that the rest of the world is going to look like Death Valley.”
You’re a National Treasure. Thank you.
Your understanding of this remarkable landscape, its power to affect our very notions of being, is so poignant, and beautifully described. Death Valley is stripped-down to the bones of nature’s fierce beauty, and its simultaneously fierce indifference. Thank you for your description of the lake, so improbable in that context, and which I’ve imagined would be both wonderful and disconcerting to experience. May we all keep finding ways to touch base with ourselves. Your kids are lucky to have you.
Ok be safe please ! What a world we live in death threats to writers and young women playing college basketball almost too much to think about .
So good, Sarah, thank you.
You are the Taylor Swift of Apocalypse Blues.
Your prose guts me and lays me flat on the desert floor, staring up at the milky way, cursing satellites, tears sliding down my face at the beauty of it all. Our children, this earth. I am not religious, but I pray to baby Jesus that he keeps you and your sweet family safe. If you ever need to make the run for the Northern border, we have sanctuary and rocks.
Beautiful, exquisite writing, as usual. Thank you so much!