Dear Island, I miss you.

Sometimes after I've been in Moab a little too long, I start to feel slightly claustrophobic. Living in a valley you kinda forget that the sun actually sets-- instead of just disappearing behind the red cliffs that constantly hover. I start craving a horizon and a long open road. And after living up at the Island for two years, I grew accustomed to dodging cows, going any speed I pleased (since I never saw a cop) and naming various buttes and rocks that marked my path. 

This week B had a climbing patrol up Washer Woman Arch (with along with Druid wins the prize for my favorite) with another ranger and I thought I might be able to catch a glimpse of him on the summit from Mesa Arch. Leslie and I stopped to scope out a petroglyph panel and get poison ivy and then headed up to my old stomping grounds. Is it possible to forget how beautiful a place is after living there for two years? As cheesy as it sounds, this place is special to me. And it's a cryin' shame that so many local moabites have never seen it. 

Liesel and I at the arch-- Brian was on the climbing the tower in the distance. 

Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have Leslie who will go on great baby-friendly adventures? I'm under no illusion that friends like that are easy to come by. 

Check out Monument Basin. Can you see the kissing rocks in the basin? I feel like I could spend a lifetime exploring this place. B and I once hiked down into that basin-- I felt like a tiny speck in a sea of hardened mud. It was other-worldly and completely amazing. 

This weekend we went to Hovenweep ("deserted valley") to see a bunch of ruins built by the ancients with Brian's Arches co-workers. It was impressive but the highlight was seeing the tarantula and having conversations with kids who innocently share the skeletons in the family closet. And eating at a really terrible restaurant in Blanding. But in a town called Bland-ing, what can you expect?

And I'm adorable. with love, Liesel.