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I spent a week camping by myself all over Chama, Durango, and Pagosa. I can't even begin to tell you how perfect it was. The last night I was on a river. I was 19 miles down a dirt road, by myself, the jagged mountains towering above and the sound of the river, with its rocks rolling and lulling me to sleep. Having shared this spot with my kids 8 years ago, I knew it would be mostly empty and it was.

Durango is deep in my heart. It's really hard to explain so I will leave you with a journal entry I wrote on the river that night.

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I've had a love affair with Durango for 33 years. I inhale the smell of pine and the spicy smell of earth and wildflower. Is it cinnamon? Cardamon? I can't place it but the moment I drive into town I smell it and know I am back. My feet are filthy from the soil, and I mean filthy. It stains my hands and fingernails with powdery rust. My final camp is on a river with jagged mountains all around. There is a camp host and two other people here, one of which has gone hunting. The camps are very far apart. I am alone. It's a bit unnerving, but empowering and feels right. I haven't showered in a week and only now I feel I am blending in, just a bit. My sandals are rust colored, my fleece hoody the mustard color of the changing leaves. My things smell like Colorado. I smell like Colorado and raw human.

Every place here holds a memory from our honeymoon mountain biking the four corners for a month. This love affair is tangled with my forever love affair with my husband, Billy. I can't separate the two. The places we camped, the mountains we viewed. Even boulders I stood upon 33 years ago are here waiting. It's all so familiar and personal. It's mine. It's ours.

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Wonderful photo!

Capriotes

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Beautiful images and description Carlee.  <3

Semana Santa en Sevilla

Following my travels in the beginning of Spring Break, I returned to Sevilla for the end of Semana Santa – a week when elaborate processions, extensive celebration, and ancient tradition engulf the city. I arrived in Sevilla at midnight from a nearly 24-hour travel dilemma on my way back from Prague to find the streets packed with people of all ages and mazes of intricately decorated floats and processions throughout the city as I made my way home. Thousands of people flock to Sevilla to see the spectacle and participate in the incredible celebration and I didn’t understand the crowds and insanity of the celebration my host parents talked about until I found myself with an hour detour on my way home due to the mass amounts of people.

I have never seen anything quite like Semana Santa. The week is filled to the brim with passion, emotion, religious devotion, and of course because it is Spain after all – endless celebration. Floats known as imagenes, can weigh up to one metric ton and are carried for hours by groups on men called costaleros through the skinny city streets of Sevilla. My host mom explained to me the importance and exclusivity of becoming a costalero that cariies the floats – men wait for years on lists within their religious brotherhoods to be accepted. They practice all year to carry the float with precision and look forward to the holy week with anticipation. She explained that if it were to rain, the floats are not to be moved from the church and as a result grown men are seen crying in the streets, devastated that they are unable to complete this religious honor. Surrounding the floats, are people dressed in traditional garb and pointed hoods known as capirotes who march alongside the procession and traditional bands march behind the floats and fill the streets with music.

The crowds were what charmed me the most. The local Sevillanos dressed to the absolute nines throughout the week and entire families could be seen strolling the streets and viewing processions together. Passion and emotion is provoked as people often cry upon viewing the floats and in some cases men can be seen belting traditional flamenco from their balconies, overcome with passion and ‘duende’.

Semana Santa was a beautiful sight to see and showed me once again the Sevillano’s niche for living life to the fullest: full of family, passion, and celebration.

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Wonderful!  You are finding the time to get to know yourself and hear yourself breathe.  I think when we are so busy, and surrounded by people we miss the blessings of just being.  You are on your own Camino, finding yellow arrows  without even stepping foot on the path.  Ultreia Carlee!!

01.31.18 The Magic of Solitude: Alone not Lonely

I finally feel like I’m settling in to my life here in Sevilla, and it feels so nice to finally have a routine.Adjusting to new parts of the culture has been fairly easy for me; adapting to new Spanish cultural norms, trying the Andalusian foods, and adopting the Spanish tradition of staying up all hours of the night have been a piece of cake. But overwhelmingly so, the most challenging experience for me thus far has been coming to terms with how much time I spend alone day-to-day here in Sevilla. These two weeks have made it especially clear to me that at home in the United States I am constantly surrounded by people; whether it be my roommates, classmates, friends, family, or co-workers – I am rarely alone. So, having a few hours to myself each day has been a very new experience.

Here in Sevilla, I am by no means lonely; I have plenty of friends who I hang out with outside of class, host parents that enjoy sitting and chatting with me, and numerous people who I interact with. But I do find myself strolling the streets alone after class, going to the gym on my own, occasionally sitting and reading at a cafe solo, or spending time alone in my apartment when my host family is out. The first couple of days I noticed this it made me extremely squeamish – I tried to fill every moment with a task, activity or plan with someone else, occupying myself and avoiding being alone at all costs (I know - how very American of me). It made me feel anxious and strange to not have companionship nearly every minute of the day.

After some time contemplating my solitude, I not only embraced it but was came to remember I actually LOVE being alone but our society has largely convinced me to believe that I shouldn’t. Back home, I feel as if being alone is resisted and branded with negative connotations: being single automatically invites pity and being alone is often stigmatized as loneliness and despair. But if you ask me we are missing out on the benefits of solitude by focusing only on the perils of loneliness. Being in an unfamiliar place alone pushes you out of your comfort zone and creates special moments you are lucky enough to share with only yourself. It results in strong sense of self, newfound confidence, and keen observations. Some of my most adventurous, laughable, and memorable moments so far have been on my own and it has allowed me to discover and develop perspective on the world and myself.

So, my first life lesson and goal for abroad is official: I am learning to revel in my time alone and am working to fully embrace the beauty in my solo moments.

Sat down and wrote this novel of a post so I could avoid studying for a Spanish grammar exam :) hasta pronto amigos

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Hedgehog lovin’.  Roxy is our sweet little girl. 

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Surfing. Best way to start the day. 

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Seaglass. 

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Sunset love.

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Winter surf.