“The Sky’s on fire
Painting up the open land
And if you’ve never seen it
You just can’t understand.
You ain’t lived ‘til you’ve loved
An Arizona Sunset
Watching daylight kiss the mountains
Leaving colors you won’t forget”
~Desert Folk Records
Soundtrack for a Sunday Morning: (22) Arizona Sunsets – YouTube
Happy Winter Solstice. This has been such a perfect week. The weather has been in the upper 70’s and even into the low 80’s. Not a cloud in the sky most days until nearly sunset. Cloudless nights allowed for some great meteor watching earlier in the week. Sitting outside most days and evenings brought such an incredible sense of connection to nature, or, as my shaman in Peru would say “a connection to all that is.”
Matt drove us to the Quartzsite Christmas parade on Sunday. It was hokey, goofy and very “Mayberry RFD.” I absolutely LOVED it. I couldn’t stop smiling at the down home “floats” and decorated off-road vehicles. If you had anything with wheels and a string of lights, you too could be a “float.” It sounds sappy to say, but it was heartwarming to see the year-round residents of the town, and the winter visitors join forces to just have a good time.
A couple days later, LaPosa South (camping area where I’m currently living) had their parade. Matt and I decided to decorate his side-by-side with all our solar lights and join in.
We had so much fun, riding around and waving at the kids lining the dirt trails.
Our days as camping neighbors being numbered (we’re both about ready to leave Quartzsite, and deciding where we are going next and if we’re traveling together) we spent lots of time together this week. Matt cooked breakfast one morning making eggs, hash browns and sauteed mushrooms and onions. I contributed rosemary olive toast and coffee. Later that day, he was grilling hot dogs, and I brought Brussel sprouts that he sauteed in butter with some ginger sesame dressing and I ate them over brown rice and he ate them as a side dish to his hot dogs. We lit a campfire and just sat there, staring at the horizon and grinning like fools.
Lessons From The Road: I’ve had some major lessons this week. Gentle, EASY lessons. For whatever reason, some of the nomads I follow on Facebook have started posting about nomad stuff. I’ll include a couple links below for those of you who are interested, but the gist of most of the lessons is that Nomadic life is a political movement. I’ve never thought about it as such. I’ve tried for 5 years to sort out who is my tribe and who isn’t. I’ve loved connecting with Nomads while trying to avoid the “Fauxmads” and vacationers from the cities.
I found this post from a fellow nomad that sums up what I was struggling to discover, but could never find the words:
They’re watching closer now. Not because people are doing something wrong…but because people are doing something different.
When housing becomes a luxury, living mobile becomes an act of self-preservation. When rent eats your paycheck and debt steals your sleep, choosing wheels over walls isn’t rebellion – it’s logic.
They’ll call it illegal. They’ll call it unsafe. They’ll call it anything except what it really is.
People refusing to play a game that no longer works.
Living in a vehicle isn’t the problem. The problem is a system that punishes independence and rewards compliance.
So if you’re living on the road, building your own version of stability, downsizing to survive, or choosing freedom over fear, know this:
You’re not alone.
You’re not crazy.
You’re early.
The crackdown isn’t about safety.
It’s about control.
And the more people wake up, the louder that signal gets.
Stay mobile.
Stay aware.
Stay free. 🚌✊
I realized I sold everything and left my sticks and bricks home behind, not because I couldn’t afford to live there anymore, but because I didn’t want to afford to live there anymore. Staying would have meant working for another 10 years, and although I loved my work as a massage therapist, I wasn’t willing to have to work full time to pay mortgagees, utility bills and all the ridiculous licenses and fees required of me by the State of Delaware. Out here in the wild, I can easily afford to live on my meager Social Security check, and I’ve traded a warehouse home/massage studio in a small town for the most amazing vistas, spectacular sunsets, and some very kind fellow nomads.
Here are a couple links to a nomad who I consider a mentor:
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1227230829299310