Trek to Moss Lake

 

The Moss Lake slumbers peacefully near the Oklahoma border and the glassy water is rarely bothered. Regardless, it welcomes new visitors with open arms. Besides protecting me from the intense Texas heat, the water served as an intermediary that connected me to the nature surrounding me. The soft current swelled and contracted as though the bosom of Mother Nature herself was breathing peacefully beneath the Earth. If you are willing to fully immerse yourself in the dark waters, you can even hear her hiss, an ode to the endless conflict between the valley and the humanity that dots the shoreline.

Here I found myself in nature, but the wilderness was nowhere to be found. The thrill of being vulnerable to the elements was absent. The lake, serene and peaceful, spoke to me softly as it swelled and contorted to fit the shape of the valley below, mastered by the retaining walls. The water was there, but it wasn’t wild, as I immersed myself in the deep, I felt alone; it was as though I finally realized that I had been denied a basic human right: To live in unison with the wilderness. In a world dictated by electricity, civility and consumption, I found myself reflecting on the stories of Luther Standing Bear. There was no way to compensate for the dichotomy between my childhood and the Lakota’s, but the lake was indifferent. The water embraced me as one of its own, replacing my solitude with affection. The lake at night is a sensory deprivation tank, but it can give you good company in peaceful solitude; a great place for meditation.