Here, I find absolute quiet…I struggle to remember the last time in my life where I could hear nothing at all. There are sounds here and there but they are all natural and non-man made. The wind blows full gusts across my body, to hear the rocks move or jolt under my feet as I step over and around them to soar to new heights, and to listen to the sharp squawking of the desert falcon soaring into the air above me.
For the first time in a long while, I am completely alone with my thoughts and my feelings. There’s no one else around and I am alright with that. I am finally able to take a much-needed breather in this fast-paced world and able to concentrate on nothing but the natural sounds around me, intermittent at best. As a city slicker and former suburbanite, the desert is so unfamiliar to my senses that it feels overwhelming to me at times.
Away from any civilization, on my own, and accountable to only myself for once, it is truly refreshing to be able to live deeply in each moment, putting one foot in front of the other as I focus on my singular goal of hiking through the Sonora desert landscape, enjoying every sight and sound without a screen or a person in sight. “This is the way that life should be more often”, I think to myself.
Still though, I am not quite used to the quiet and I struggle to remember the last time I went an hour where I heard nothing but natural sounds or sights. Too often, we desire to be in the hustle and bustle, to be constantly in front of a screen, or each other. Maybe what we need more of is more time in a natural environment where our primordial ancestors were born and raised to hike, fish, hunt, and bathe in environments much more natural than our own today. While cities and towns have their modern advantages, as I get older, I crave these nature experiences. Also, I desire to be alone with my thoughts and feelings, but to fully take in each moment that passes as my life narrows down to the minute here rather than to the week or the month ahead.
As I crisscross the hiking trail I’m on in the desert, I am reminded that nothing in life is ever guaranteed and that the desert suffers no fools indeed. The quiet of the desert can lull you into true tranquility but if you are always not fully aware of your surroundings, you can become one of its unknowing victims. Checking to see if you are conserving enough water, getting some shade in the sun, making sure you are on the right trail, and have a path back, these are necessities to making your desert stay a pleasant one. Luckily, your senses are heightened to the 9th degree as your priorities become solely about both survival and endurance rather than about paychecks and promotions.
I continue to watch my footing, check my pulse, and even observe the environment for snakes that could be disguised as branches. I am once again thrust in a foreign place where I must take care, or I could end up not coming back at all. However, unlike being in an average city or town or even a farm, I am truly alive here and for that, I am grateful. Not everyone gets to experience the multi-colored hues of sediment and rock formed over millions of years. Not everyone is able to see the huge mountains, the unique canyons shaped like chimneys, and the red rocks, and the deep valleys that were molded for many millennia before man first walked the Earth. How wondrous it is to experience this kind of environment, for which we are all caretakers of. I treasure these moments because I know that as we live on a planet under threat from our short-sighted actions and careless deeds, the need to protect the quiet of the desert rings true.
Making my way to the summit of Thunder Mountain, I hear nothing but the gasping of my own breath and the sweat dripping down my neck. I am in awe of the large green plants like the cacti, the red mountains, and the bright, blue desert sky. What a great joy it is to hear absolute quiet at the summit of this mountain and I hope it is not long until I can be here again to enjoy a silent hike, to see the beautiful views, and to be able to hear nothing, nothing at all.
As I reach the end of my hike, I realize how the natural environments are best for people and too often today, we try to drown out the quiet because we have little or no peace in our lives. My trip to the desert taught me to embrace the quiet, to embrace my own thoughts, and to remember to be present with myself when no one else is around. The desert asks you to hone your survival skills a bit and if you can persevere, do your homework, and act wisely, you’ll be rewarded with the absolute silence that many of us crave but few of us ever take action to have.
When it comes to my favorite thing about being in the desert, it is no contest for me: the stillness, the quiet, and the vast nothingness calm me in ways few other things in life have. That revelation, for me, is worth the strenuous journey to get together, to be there, and to come back having learned more about who I am as a person and what I truly need in this life of mine.
The Life and Times of Ben Weinberg 