Understanding

She asked, "Why did you move back here?"

She and I were taking a walk down a desert trail, between the jutting rocks and the slow easy river. The sheer walls soaring above us are patterned with color and texture that makes you want to pause and take a breath every step. The sky behind them was turning rose and pink to end the day. She wore flip flops. The trail was steep and stony.

She had stopped by to see me on her way from one side of Oregon to the other.

Coming off the rocks were climbers with their gear. I told her that this time of year was nice here because the cooling weather meant we didn’t need to watch out for snakes. She said that where she grew up, next to a different river a few hours drive from here, the pumice from Mount Mazama becoming Crater Lake kept the snakes away. They didn't like to move their bellies across it. I have not spent much time in her pumice-filled land. Here, the volcanoes left basalt for the rivers to cut canyons through and the old volcanoes are cones of red cinder, which we crush and use to add traction to the roads when it snows.

She and I walked into the place where you are ringed by the rocks, the wall was a chaos of faces and limbs and ornament against the very last rose color. I wanted her to see not just this marked dramatic piece of my home, but the desert outside of this ring. It is vast BLM land where you come across bones and water springs and confusing geology, where you can walk without a trail, just pick out a point and head to it.

She asked 

Why did you move back here?

I said it was good to be around my parents again as they age, but to be honest that would not be reason enough. I have been tuning my answer over the last year but it always feels made up. It was not a decision made by checklist or spreadsheet. My heart made the decision, then my head made up reasons.

I said

This is the place my mind was made and it is more relaxed here. I don't have to translate rainy winters or ostentatious wealth. My mind is more relaxed and has energy for other things.

I said

And I grew tired of how the city talks, how ignorant the people are and how cruel to rural people their language is. I would rather be around these conservatives, even the loud mouth ones, than the well-meaning progressive urban voices back there.

She lives in a city, but not too many hours drive from the property she grew up on. The pear trees that her parents planted before she was born just made fruit for the first time this year.

She said

I understand that.

We walked together into the darkness and I did not feel alone. The trail was reducing to just a suggestion in the blue-black world. She moved along with me in her low performance shoes without injury or complaint.