Sedonas Secret

When I was eighteen I met an American man who put the thought into my mind about driving in an open top car, to the Grand Canyon.

When I met David, the love of my life, we talked about this dream. This July, when we decided to include a quest for yourself in Davids obituary; I knew I would do a version of the road trip.

I found that courage and am so excited and proud to say I did it!

Flying to Phoenix, Arizona - I rented a red Mustang convertible I named Georgia D.  I drove carefully (I promise) to Sedona, where the next day I drove (carefully I promise) to the Grand Canyon with my Bowie music blasting.

Now truly I struggle for words to describe this entire journey. Usually on trips I lose myself in doing what others need or what laziness/fear only permits while collecting snacks and gifts.
Sedona inspired me to collect me.
It was stunning. Divine. Where I want to live in order to be.
I will never forget turning that bend and seeing the red rocks for the first time.
Yes, I exclaimed the same as the first explorers did: "Well fuck me!" Yep, sorry I did. That and "Oh my Giddy Aunt" - haven't said that for years.

View from my hotel room

I do have a secret, in that I never felt alone. David was with me, laughing and singing, as he did.
I even climbed on the rocks, just a little, and next time I will hike.
Yes I cried in the darkness at the Southern rim of the Canyon. Yes I felt awkward when I ordered a dessert for two by mistake and yes on the red rocks I wished I had a physical hand to help me go that tad further.
Crying at the Canyon alone is releasing, dessert for two when it's one is naughty and nice and I only had to look even deeper to feel that hand.  Or ask!
This was an extraordinary journey for me and I literally feel pages turning in my life.

Rather than sending postcards or trinkets bought from the airport (shop was closed when I flew back!) I hope for us all, the serenity and beauty that can only create good.

Today, back home, when I went for a walk I noticed that my head was held high. I usually look down, or should I say - I used to look down.