Dave’s post here caused me to reflect more self-consciously on what it is I do when I go out in the desert. Do I walk off pavement’s edge to get away from stresses or disappointments? Do I go out to have adventures? To think? Dave’s post is about seeking God in nature. Is that what I’m doing–looking for God out there, in the Great Not-Me? This passage from my novel, The Pictograph Murders, surfaced in response to introspection that Dave’s post provoked. I think it sums up well enough what I do some of the time I’m out in Nature.
The wash broadened into a fan of moist sand. The walls, too, widened to form a rounded chamber capped by an azure disc of sky. Just a few yards away lay a shallow plunge pool. Kit waded in and drank noisily. In the talus slope behind the pool, water clittered around three moss-framed, stone-keyed seeps. The wiry and crooked little streams stepped and ruffled down slope to empty into the pool. Continue reading “Excerpt: The Pictograph Murders by P. G. Karamesines”
