arizona, arizona
dear world,
heather here and i'd like to introduce you to the MESQUITE TREE.
it's a rather unassuming, scrubbly sort of vegetation - but! - if you were to wait till the end of season and grind the product of its pods, you would end up with a sweet tasting flour that is 70% protein and which complements buckwheat tremendously. sadly, our cold, damp quebecoisclimate does not favour this particular plant, but keep your eyes peeled for it. i have a feeling its desert abundance will soon be made known throughout the foodie world.
it fueled our bodies, our tired spirits. driving through northern arizona [ALL OF IT] was expansive, staggering. beautiful, deprived. we saw it all - the grandiose mansions and gated communities, the exhausted poverty of the unfortunate reservation system. processing these injuries was overwhelming - by the time we reached sedona we just wanted to stop. moving. to be still, to plunge our tired bodies and souls into the earth. which is exactly what we did.
shaken, we were whisked away from the vortical power of sedona to cornville by a benevolent farmer. we only spent a day and an evening weeding, but it felt like so much MORE. only recently having revived from our winter comas, the southern sun in april was at the same power as our same sun, in june. being a textbook virgo, there is nothing like digging in the dirt to soothe any and all heartache.
little did we know that paradise lived in the desert. taking a tip from our host, we head out to fossil creek. the closed road did not deter us from achieving the bliss that is
we had gone swimming throughout our trip - it was the golden rule. it didn't really matter if the colorado river was hypothermia-inducing cold - we went swimming anyway because HEY! we were there, we had our respective suits, and the air was hot as blazes. but here, in fossil creek, there were no heart attack yelps. everywhere was a swimming hole. the creek is lined with ancient coral - the kind that houses hundreds of lizards. finally finding what we both were looking for, it was hard to leave.
there is nothing more beautiful, more terrifying than the desert. i was immediately at home in its expansive landscape, its consistent middle-of-nowhere frequency. the forest can be quite claustrophobic, but i won't hold it against it. it too, was once the bottom of an ocean, maybe even the bottom of the same ocean.
heather here and i'd like to introduce you to the MESQUITE TREE.
it's a rather unassuming, scrubbly sort of vegetation - but! - if you were to wait till the end of season and grind the product of its pods, you would end up with a sweet tasting flour that is 70% protein and which complements buckwheat tremendously. sadly, our cold, damp quebecoisclimate does not favour this particular plant, but keep your eyes peeled for it. i have a feeling its desert abundance will soon be made known throughout the foodie world.
it fueled our bodies, our tired spirits. driving through northern arizona [ALL OF IT] was expansive, staggering. beautiful, deprived. we saw it all - the grandiose mansions and gated communities, the exhausted poverty of the unfortunate reservation system. processing these injuries was overwhelming - by the time we reached sedona we just wanted to stop. moving. to be still, to plunge our tired bodies and souls into the earth. which is exactly what we did.
shaken, we were whisked away from the vortical power of sedona to cornville by a benevolent farmer. we only spent a day and an evening weeding, but it felt like so much MORE. only recently having revived from our winter comas, the southern sun in april was at the same power as our same sun, in june. being a textbook virgo, there is nothing like digging in the dirt to soothe any and all heartache.
little did we know that paradise lived in the desert. taking a tip from our host, we head out to fossil creek. the closed road did not deter us from achieving the bliss that is
we had gone swimming throughout our trip - it was the golden rule. it didn't really matter if the colorado river was hypothermia-inducing cold - we went swimming anyway because HEY! we were there, we had our respective suits, and the air was hot as blazes. but here, in fossil creek, there were no heart attack yelps. everywhere was a swimming hole. the creek is lined with ancient coral - the kind that houses hundreds of lizards. finally finding what we both were looking for, it was hard to leave.
there is nothing more beautiful, more terrifying than the desert. i was immediately at home in its expansive landscape, its consistent middle-of-nowhere frequency. the forest can be quite claustrophobic, but i won't hold it against it. it too, was once the bottom of an ocean, maybe even the bottom of the same ocean.