Occupation of Independence

It might seem like common sense to a beginner to see sunrise and sunset as mirror images of each other. It certainly did for me, many years ago. The middle of the day isn't good for much besides scalding sunlight and wind. And this mirror image mindset worked reasonably well. Until it didn't. I got started too late in the day once on a mountain bike ride, lost my trail, and panicked about the approach of sunset. As a result I read a few books about outdoor survival and safety. One point came through loud and clear: an evening outing is drastically more dangerous than a morning one, especially for a solo hiker or biker. And this fact just isn't obvious until something has happened to you. If something goes wrong for the morning hiker, he has all day to get rescued. But let the same misadventure happen to the evening outdoorsman, and he could be without help and die of exposure. High deserts, let alone mountains, are cold at night. But it is hard to judge how much coldness at

A couple posts ago I was writing about a wonderful time at sunset. It is a time of the day I had completely lost interest in. Why so? Many people seem to become lively towards the end of the day. I have never understood "evening people." It seems logical to be tired at the end of the day, and lively at the beginning of the day after hours of rest/sleep. If rest doesn't have that effect, then why do it?   Aristocrats during their era used to stay up all night, doing the things they were interested in: attending soirees, gambling at cards, and pursuing their latest adulterous love affair. The servants were in bed at night, so the aristocrats could run amuck without being seen. Thus staying up all night became a status symbol. Cities are magnets to talented and ambitious bourgeoisie, who naturally aped the aristocrats. Actually being a morning person makes a person feel a little odd. Just walk up to any store at opening time -- 10 in the morning, typically -- and you wonder

Tombstone, AZ is probably on many travelers' bucket list. That doesn't say much for bucket lists. I have been through several times, just because roads intersected there and I needed gasoline. It has always been 3 minutes of fun. Then I left while still rolling my eyes. But scowling at tourist kitsch isn't much fun. Let's try to explain the tourists. In the 1950s and 1960s Westerns were big on television. I watch DVDs of some of those shows today. But most of the tourists in Tombstone are young, so why would they care about the past? Westerns are not a big part of the entertainment industry today. Brian Tarr, fineartamerica.com So what is the attraction of Tombstone to a young tourist today? Yes, there are a few restaurants and ice cream parlors, but they can find all of that closer to home. Is it really fun and exciting to walk into a tourist store and buy over-priced T-shirts with "Shootout at the OK Corral" screen-printed on them?  I understand tourists are

Earlier I praised the idea of combining a favorite piece of music with an outdoor or camping situation. The argument was platitudinous, perhaps.  Last night I made the idea concrete. Recall that my old pup and I took a nice walk near sunset, with the rocks reflecting the lowering sun. I felt quietly euphoric for several reasons. I was back inside my camper before the sun literally set. The view probably got better and better outdoors but I preferred to look at a quadrilateral of coloring light on the ugly unpainted plywood wall inside the camper. And I played some famous music by Schubert: it goes by different names, such as "Serenade" or "Schwanengesang" (Swan Song.) But it helps to use a number when looking things up: D. 957. I prefer the solo piano version, arranged by Liszt. Even though I was familiar with the music and have almost overplayed it the last month, it seemed twice as enjoyable right then and there. Why is that? Should I even try to analyze it? Mayb

Long-suffering readers probably suspect that much of the bad-mouthing about Arizona on this blog is due to a specific problem. Drought. It really affects me, and it should. Otherwise I would just be a tourist who thinks it is all nicey-poo that skies are dry and blue. Seriously the essence of reality in this part of the world is the dark drama of drought. Whether or not I do a good job of imparting that to the reader, it is right to try. But now that we've had a Noah-like 0.13" of rain, I feel cleansed and reborn. And getting back on the road helps. Almost immediately my dog was as enthusiastic as a pup and my camera was fluttering its eyelashes, in the Tombstone area.