cool|UP

It felt as if the oven had been left on high for hours by the time we started moving. The sun broiled overhead with malicious intent, yet there was just enough wind to keep the heat from suffocating our half cooked plans. Not a single cloud hung above us as the air had long since sacrificed every last droplet of its precious moisture to the thankless, cracked ground below. The landscape ran dry of reasons to motivate anyone to wander through its inhospitable terrain. Without a sliver of shade anywhere in sight, the only reprieve from the intensity overhead was tucked under the wide brims of our foresight and preparedness.

The horizon radiated waves of false promises as we ran through the brittle grass that carpeted the surrounding expanse of overbaked emptiness. Bald hills and weathered outcroppings, devoid of any life over knee high, bore the consequences of overexposure. It was impossible to dismiss the dire need to defend ourselves from the aggressive heat with considered gear and a calculated approach. We climbed every rise in elevation to harness the slightest breath of parched wind to cool the perspiration that dripped between the airy fabric covering our salted skin.

Our path forward was guided by seeking rare opportunities of respite, and our continuity was secured by finding them.

Each breath drawn clung to the roof of our mouths like a spoonful of dried spice. But our thirst to run deeper into the dehydrated wilderness made the unpalatable conditions a bit easier to swallow. With discernable landmarks visible for miles in every direction, we dared to venture far out of bounds, not needing to worry about tracing a trail of footprints back to where our detour began. There’s a distinct flavor of freedom that comes with the acquired taste for feeling a bit lost.

we indulged in an adventure à la carte as we ran directionless towards nothing in particular. There was no intention for our diversion or a set destination in mind. We ran to discover how delicate our existence was in a land determined to turn every struggle for life back into the dust beneath our feet.

We eventually found our way back to the dried artery that led us into the heart of the wastes just as the sun started losing strength in its battle against time. As it bowed its head in defeat, the heat released its grip from around our desiccated throats. We stood and smiled at the sight of the sun’s weakened face, no longer intimidated by the threat of its incensed glare. Residual warmth rose from the ground in a final stand against the coming chill of night. The realization that we’d run farther than planned was a mixed bag of pride and nerves as there was still considerable ground to cover before darkness settled in. The wind gained momentum and started moving with intent, spurred on by the growing disparity of temperature between the earth and air. We matched its speed as we ran, pushed along by billowing sails of high spirits that carried us back towards the cool comfort of home.