This installment has everything to do with black and white images. Mostly, clouds. And as some of you may already know, I am practically obsessed with weather phenomena. Or perhaps I am impractically obsessed. Either way. I like clouds. Certain types of clouds. The clouds that have three dimensions. And of course, those are the clouds that are often unseen here in the desert southwest. The exception? Monsoon season. That's when they crop up with some regularity - over the mountains, before descending upon the deserts late in the afternoon or early in the evening. There's always a question involved. Will the storms make it down into the desert? Will they survive the harsh environs?
But lucky for you, I won't get into that here. No one needs to know what they do not need to know. All kinds of details amounting to nothing. With this illness we are already dealing with a veritable nothing on a regular basis. Well, not nothing nothing, but the kind of nothing where we can do nothing about it. Mostly. It seems. We linger, and we last. And we sometimes lust for normality. Which is merely a formality amongst the living. Well, we are living. To some degrees. Varying degrees. Hotter than heck degrees … for me!
And so you know, I am absolutely being more careful out there. Borderline dehydration is no joke. And we are pushing 110° of late, and moving forward into the immediate future. That's a lot of heat coming down on my skull. It's a difficult balance.
The light of day is what's gotten me out of bed, yet the heat from that same exact life emitting sunshine may put me in the hospital if I'm not careful. Okay then, I am being more careful now. No need to chime in on that - I appreciate the concerns. And I have taken your concerns into consideration. And in considering these considerations I have made subtle adjustments to my regularly scheduled daily efforts.
Anyway, here we go with the pictures (the next round will involve color pictures!):
My Walkway into Another World
This crossing is how I get to the other side. And these thunderheads make me want to go there early and then often. However, those storms are an easy 30 miles away, descending off the Mogollon Rim. At top power chair speed (6.4 mph), I won't get there in time.
For the other image, I was facing north, and this one I am looking into the sun, obscured by clouds. A massive thunderhead working its way up into the atmosphere. I sat (baked) outside in awe of this storm structure developing above and just to the left of me. Quite impressive. The storm I'd been waiting for. The close proximity I'd been seeking.
Not the Wrong Way
This is the view from my morning meditation perch (halfway up the pedestrian crossing incline), just above the freeway, and facing slightly west-southwest. I do my best to hang here each and every morning, but sometimes I get out too late, and the heat is too intense.
A mishmash of clouds on a particularly humid morning. We don't get clouds like this very often. And the stifling humidity is also an outlier. As I've mentioned previously, we had nearly 30 consecutive days of drenching humidity. Which I appreciated. Very unusual weather conditions for us. This view is to the southeast. The nursing home is across the bottom along the right half of the image.
Getting Lost Highway
This one isn't a high quality image, but I love the three dimensionality of it all. Also, the potential of my escaping becomes real from this vantage point. I could hop on the freeway, veer left onto the 101, angle my way onto Interstate 17, and within two dozen minutes be up into the mountainous terrain.
For me or anybody else, it only takes a wee bit of elevation to see these things, distant objects, and distant objectives (a panoramic awakening). In these instances, my imagination is gifted future freedom, as well as past remembrances from all around and surrounding. There remain so many angles worth exploring in my mind. And I am very well feeding off of this variety on a near daily basis.
Oftentimes emotionality plays a prominent role. My eyes water. I'm sad. My eyes water. I'm happy. Then my eyes are dry. Very dry. Well, I live in flipping the desert! Of course they are!
So yes, those seem to be the primary high effects my eyes experience while out and about, drinking in the gladness, and other sensations.
Let's end with happy clouds, alright? The blistering heat versus the joy of joys. Intensity. That's what I'm experiencing now. I'm experiencing life's intensity.
Take care,
Howard
P.S. - next up, a colorized weather posting, and then subsequent to that, graphic depictions of my explorations.
But lucky for you, I won't get into that here. No one needs to know what they do not need to know. All kinds of details amounting to nothing. With this illness we are already dealing with a veritable nothing on a regular basis. Well, not nothing nothing, but the kind of nothing where we can do nothing about it. Mostly. It seems. We linger, and we last. And we sometimes lust for normality. Which is merely a formality amongst the living. Well, we are living. To some degrees. Varying degrees. Hotter than heck degrees … for me!
And so you know, I am absolutely being more careful out there. Borderline dehydration is no joke. And we are pushing 110° of late, and moving forward into the immediate future. That's a lot of heat coming down on my skull. It's a difficult balance.
The light of day is what's gotten me out of bed, yet the heat from that same exact life emitting sunshine may put me in the hospital if I'm not careful. Okay then, I am being more careful now. No need to chime in on that - I appreciate the concerns. And I have taken your concerns into consideration. And in considering these considerations I have made subtle adjustments to my regularly scheduled daily efforts.
Anyway, here we go with the pictures (the next round will involve color pictures!):
My Walkway into Another World
This crossing is how I get to the other side. And these thunderheads make me want to go there early and then often. However, those storms are an easy 30 miles away, descending off the Mogollon Rim. At top power chair speed (6.4 mph), I won't get there in time.
For the other image, I was facing north, and this one I am looking into the sun, obscured by clouds. A massive thunderhead working its way up into the atmosphere. I sat (baked) outside in awe of this storm structure developing above and just to the left of me. Quite impressive. The storm I'd been waiting for. The close proximity I'd been seeking.
Not the Wrong Way
This is the view from my morning meditation perch (halfway up the pedestrian crossing incline), just above the freeway, and facing slightly west-southwest. I do my best to hang here each and every morning, but sometimes I get out too late, and the heat is too intense.
A mishmash of clouds on a particularly humid morning. We don't get clouds like this very often. And the stifling humidity is also an outlier. As I've mentioned previously, we had nearly 30 consecutive days of drenching humidity. Which I appreciated. Very unusual weather conditions for us. This view is to the southeast. The nursing home is across the bottom along the right half of the image.
Getting Lost Highway
This one isn't a high quality image, but I love the three dimensionality of it all. Also, the potential of my escaping becomes real from this vantage point. I could hop on the freeway, veer left onto the 101, angle my way onto Interstate 17, and within two dozen minutes be up into the mountainous terrain.
For me or anybody else, it only takes a wee bit of elevation to see these things, distant objects, and distant objectives (a panoramic awakening). In these instances, my imagination is gifted future freedom, as well as past remembrances from all around and surrounding. There remain so many angles worth exploring in my mind. And I am very well feeding off of this variety on a near daily basis.
Oftentimes emotionality plays a prominent role. My eyes water. I'm sad. My eyes water. I'm happy. Then my eyes are dry. Very dry. Well, I live in flipping the desert! Of course they are!
So yes, those seem to be the primary high effects my eyes experience while out and about, drinking in the gladness, and other sensations.
Let's end with happy clouds, alright? The blistering heat versus the joy of joys. Intensity. That's what I'm experiencing now. I'm experiencing life's intensity.
Take care,
Howard
P.S. - next up, a colorized weather posting, and then subsequent to that, graphic depictions of my explorations.
