It has been several years since Steph and I first stumbled on our favorite place at the Salton Sea. It was quite by accident. We just, for some reason, never bothered to turn back when we meant to. We kept going forward into the unknown until we found this place. On that day I took this picture of Steph and wrote this:
"This is the most strange and beautiful place I can imagine.
Steph inspects a forsaken nest on the dry sea floor. In the background, perfectly frozen a mile away across the desert, is a power plant. We have walked a mile from the other direction over this lovely brutal land to get here, not really knowing what we'd find. There is nothing anywhere around us. Nothing at all but this desolate tree released from worry, this wild empty eagle's place, and the wind tugging hard and bittersweet at all our senses to show us that we are still on earth. And on the ground, not snow: Salt.
This is what I mean when I take you aside, a wild light in my eyes, and try to persuade you how important serendipity is. This picture right here *is* serendipity, and it represents a day we will never, ever forget. I will always remember that when I have no plans, I keep walking."
It was a life-affecting instance of serendipity, and I'm grateful for it and all the times serendipity delights, informs, and improves life.