The Warmth of the Sun.

I may have left my heart in San Francisco but my soul lives in Moab.

A sadness loomed over me as we traveled south on highway 191 towards Lake Powell. I looked up at the rock walls surrounding Moab and told them I would be back very soon. I pictured myself staying in a cute Airbnb close to town, hiking trails during the mornings hours before the day became too hot and meeting locals at the corner bar and diners at sunset.

There are few places where I feel completely whole. Moab is definitely one of those places. The bottom of the Grand Canyon is another, along with Zion National Park and the islands of Hawaii. The feeling is not euphonic. It is not happiness. It is not bliss. It is a feeling of love. Of peace. Of being alive. When all of your senses are heightened and the warmth of the sun is relaxing every part of your body while a gentle breeze rolls over your skin bringing a sensual and encompassing sensation. Touch is enhanced and you feel like you are in a Beach Boy;s song.

Still I have the warmth of the sun,

Warmth of the sun/Within me tonight

My love’s like the warmth of the sun

It won’t ever die.

I will return to Moab but for now my journey continues west. Next stop, Lake Powell.