Lately, my landscape—within and without—is vast and high-contrast.

Skies, vaulted. Mountains smooth, jagged, undulating, harsh, constant. Desert on all sides, flat and textured. Palm trees. Cactus. Strong shadows. The angle of the sun blinding without a hat. Hard wind, hard rain. Warm days, cool nights.

We've entered communities that are all "adult". Fifty-five and older. With walls. Or just rules. Just us. Lonely. Or not?

In my mind—the vaulted spaces of my inner life—the yin-yang ball is rolling around, in and out of sunshine, intense clouds, through mud and dusty desert. The golden light of sundown. Running from winter. Seeing the inevitable: it is coming. It's almost here.

It's all about the struggle for balance. They say. But while we ride the calm or turbulent rivers of ourselves, we feel it, we shift and move clumsily or with grace.