“My mind is always off in the Far West with John Wayne and the cacti.” – Theron Humphrey

A more profound statement that applies so directly to me I have never read before. And how! This hits the nail on the head all too perfectly. Replace mind with heart perhaps, and you may have just as perfect of a statement as well.

Why though, why is it so? What is out there even? Truthfully, a lot of nothing in many places. Barren deserts. Dried-up rivers. Ghost towns and long-forgotten memories. People have lived their lives in many places that don’t even exist anymore. It’s a harsh land, full of massive, open spaces. Your only company is the sun and the stars and the coyotes and cactus and pine trees.

And yet, is that not the allure? Is that not why the Far West draws you back again and again? Your heart is clearly nestled high in the Rockies. Your spirit wanders through the Utah canyons. Arizona encapsulated your mind long ago. South Dakota you just can’t quit, while Wyoming calls to you once again. And then there’s Montana, oh that Crown Jewel! Untapped lands waiting to be conquered. I won’t even get started on the West Coast and the mystique it holds. Now there is a land that a man could get lost in for a very long time…

A man goes to the wilderness and gets lost, but through this act, he finds himself. But how? This makes no sense. In modern society, man has every convenience at his fingertips. There is literally nothing he could want for and life is as comfortable as could be imagined. But here we are, as lost as lost can be. Things are too complicated. There are too many options, too many choices every day that must be made. There is a constant buzz of information-it never ends! You cannot unplug, for that is near impossible. Everyone is in a rush and has too many places to be. Relax? Go Hustle! Read a book? TL;DR. Look at the stars? Why, do they even exist?

So then there’s the wilderness… It’s always there. Always. Staying the same, but also changing, day-by-day. It couldn’t care less about what you’re wearing today or what show you’re binging or how many likes you got or how big your raise was or the great deal on the new lease you’re driving or how many people you’ve dated or…

The Far West. I’m not the first to be encapsulated by its spell and I certainly won’t be the last. Some have chased its Call and others have put it aside. I mean to chase it fully, ‘til my body fails me and I can’t roam no more.

Rain.

I sit here this evening, listening to it steadily drone upon the roof. I hear it splash down upon the pavement outside in steady, boring, almost hypnotic monotony. It tinkles against the aluminum roofs of the cars parked outside, which lie lifeless in the dark evening.

There’s something utterly romantic about rain. Maybe it’s the cleansing nature of it, purifying everything upon the earth below, as it washes away the dust and dirt of past days and brings the promise of green grass and blooming flowers tomorrow. Perhaps it’s whatever is in my spirit that’s stirred up by a bit of weather. After all, there’s nothing more exciting than watching a storm roll in and the skies turn gray with heavy-laden clouds, ready to burst. Then there’s the idea of walking around out in the rain, getting soaked and chilled to the bone, but damnit if you don’t feel alive. People talk about dancing and kissing and singing in the rain. I think those visionaries feel the pull of it, too.

Tonight, it’s a chilly May rain, pelting down after a warm, humid morning where the air was thick and still. These are some of the best rains, for you can still feel a bit of the cold winter season that we recently left behind in this kind of rain. It’s not yet the warm soaking rains that a June thunderstorm brings. But it’s a rain full of promise, that only these springtime showers can possess.

All at once, I feel the desire to curl up in bed, perhaps with some hot coffee and a good book, completely content with being warm and dry inside. Then there’s the primal part of me, deep down, filled with the desire to all at once up and leave and go waltzing about in a good pair of leather boots and a thick flannel shirt, becoming completely caught up in the moment and letting the rush of emotions take over as I set off on an adventure.

There’s some sense of smug satisfaction when the latter mood strikes, as I know I am one of the few that will choose to be out in such weather. Common sense dictates the approach to stay inside, lest you get wet and chilled and catch a cold. No sensible person would be out on such a night like this! But I am not like most sensible folk. No, my adventurous spirit longs for moments such as these. It’s a time to refresh myself-my mind, my body and my soul. It’s a beautiful thing, rain. Full of promise, full of life. It’s vital to life, not just for the life-giving nature it brings to farmer’s crops and dried-up streams, but also for reinvigorating a man’s spirit. Rainy days are good days.

Tomorrow is another rain-day. So many possibilities that have yet to be uncovered. Maybe it’s a trout fishing day tomorrow, or maybe I’ll take a walk down my quiet city streets and traipse through the many puddles and stroll through the wet grass. When the day draws to a close and the dusk once again drapes its leaden curtains across the sky and the city lights begin to illuminate the night, I’ll then be content to stare out of the window in my own quiet solitude and drink it all in.