21.11.27 Ellwood Mesa

As we entered “dead week”, or in laymen’s terms the horrible week that predates finals I found solace in photography and old songs of Bob Dylan. I convinced myself to go to a small nature reserve a few miles up the road and take some pictures. About 30 minutes before sunset a dense fog rolled in and I thought my odds of a good shot were all but ruined, but I ended up producing some super moody shots. It took a lot of willpower to not sit at my laptop and edit them for the next three hours and study instead. The fan-favorite seems to be of the two people running but my personal favorite is of the guy walking with the reflection of the water behind him.

'The Runners'

While I was there I saw a woman walking her dog, or rather a dog walking with its owner. I’d have to say this was one of the most insanely intelligent dogs I’d ever seen. It (a husky) was walking with no leash, and it went to the edge of the bluff, stood there for a while, and just surveyed the ocean, – I’ve never seen such a thing. It seemed as if the dog was enjoying the views just as much as I was. Later, while walking I saw the dog again, laying in the grass to the side of the path and looking down the trail while its owner kept walking a quarter mile down the trail. I watched, confused, and then I realized that this dog was waiting for another dog and its owner walking down the path to come closer. I grew worried, was the dog going to approach the newcomer without its owner nearby? No, as the new dog got walked past the husky silently waited, hoping its owners would bring their small dog to greet him. When they just kept walking, the husky immediately understood and left, without so much as another look in the small dog's direction, and trotted back to its owner. Something about this interaction – the dog understanding it was not to greet the other dog without the owner's permission just amazed me.

A dog, but not the dog

I miss the mountains a lot. On my last trip to the Sierra, I became good friends with the neighbor to my campsite. She was deeply spiritual, but always amazingly logical and open-minded. We discussed deep matters such as marriage, parenthood, entry to adulthood, and relationships. Eventually, she told me she had been reading works of ancient Chinese philosophers and applying them to her life. Peace and joy in physical interaction with nature. The feeling of granite under your fingertips and the perfume of campfires. At a certain point, she mentioned how the mountains, to her, are friends – and that has stuck with me since. Regardless of the hippy quasi-philosophy, I find myself pondering - the outdoors serves as an emotional outlet, and in that way, they allow comfort in the same way a true friend does. I miss my friends.

Piute Pass, a day-hike from the aforementioned trip