by Heather Griffiths
The moon, almost full, casted shadows of tree limbs reaching over me as though to lean in for an embrace. I listened as a deer chewed the campground grass down to the red soil, sniffed the tent by my head. My husband and two daughters laid next to me under wool blankets sandwiched between sleeping bags. We kept each other warm in the autumn night.
Three days before, the winner of the presidential election had been announced. The next morning, I held back tears and vomit. I spoke with friends who were disoriented and mourning. We did our best to console each other. We went about our day working, caring for our children, preparing dinner all in a daze. I knew I had to move forward. But how? Then my husband asked if we should spend the upcoming long weekend in southern Utah.
Laying in the desert that weekend, I pulled the wool blankets closer and listened to the deer to distract myself from the anxiety of a Trump presidency. Trump has appointed Myron Ebell to lead the transition at the EPA. Ebell runs the Cooler Heads Coalition which is “focused on dispelling the myths of global warming by exposing flawed economic, scientific, and risk analysis.” Rob Bishop wants Trump to rescind national monuments, including the Grand Staircase Esclante Monument, and remove public lands from federal protection, creating loopholes for exploitation and abuse. Not to mention Bishop’s work to dismantle the Antiquities Act and his fight on preserving Bears Ears as a National monument.
The next morning a flock of wild turkeys, close to two dozen, moved through our campground. An American crow flew above our heads, perched on a tree, and watched our camp table in wait for unattended food. The sun warmed my back like a friendly hand saying, “I’m still here for you.” I sank into its warmth and the red earth beneath me. The red desert holds me still. The iron land slows my heated pulse. Blue sky draws out my breath, and I live in that one moment fully present, without worry.
The next day, we would drive home, and I was not ready. But I focus on that one moment, watching the steam lift off the sagebrush, like I was watching her breath, this Red Mother.
And she calms me. I breathe with her. In: calm. Out: my tears. In: expand. Out: contract. In: calm. Out: my hands shake. In: resolve. Out: my pulse slows. In: make space. Out: I open my eyes. I watch my children collect fallen cottonwood leaves.
I do not move on from this moment. I live continuously in this moment. I bring it to the front of my thoughts when I need stillness and calm. I do not move on. I move forward. When I arrive home again, I begin my search for organizations that are actively upholding the values I try to live by: conservation, respect, sustainability. I ask how I can help. I will not sit by with a broken heart. I will stand with resilience.
It’s been almost a month now since the election, with only a little more than a month to prepare for the new administration. I will not be silent. This red desert welded herself to my bones. I will join those who work to protect her. There are many and yet not enough. Now is the time for us all to step up to do what we can, to use our skills and volunteer or donate, to add our voices to the choir and be heard. We must move forward with resolve. We must be informed and proactive. If you’re looking for where you can add your voice and skills to protect our red desert, here is a list of local people and organizations who need you. Please reach out today: Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, Wild Utah Project, Uplift, Pandos, Red Cliffs Audubon, Utah Dine Bikeyah, Elders Rising, and more.
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