The Bonneville Salt Flats are so flat you seem to see the curvature of the planet, so barren not even the simplest of life forms survive. A place for isolation where one faces demons and personal truths head on.
I find an area to set up camp, and set forth upon the salt and rock, clearing my head with each step. I have no visitors ‘cept for the lonely crow, cawing his welcome to the unforgiving landscape. The wind blows the cobwebs from my mind.
I began cloudbursting with renewed imagination. Disconnected from the outside world.
As the sun begins it’s inevitable descent, I build a fire and chant in sun kissed skin. Laying naked under the stars, my walkabout is revealed in the nothingness.
Surviving the night through sweat and realization. New insight.