My husband and I were exploring in the Majuba Mountains of the Nevada high desert when he spotted a cross on a distant peak. I longed to have a closer look so we chugged up the mountain, searching for a corresponding road. We picked and chose our route but nevertheless made two wrong turns before backtracking and regaining our direction. Eventually one road ended within walking distance of the cross. As I emerged from the Land Rover the wind attacked my ears so I reached for my arctic hat, the one I wear when the weather would otherwise drive me inside.
Before we hiked to the cross, we poked around and found a few abandoned mines. One of the shafts seemed interminable. My husband tossed a rock into it and we heard it bounce again and again….and again……..and again…………………………………and again………
We walked to the back of the shale-covered hill and began to climb. I sought footholds in weedy shoots with withered tendrils tucked among the shards.
When we arrived at the cross, the wind tried to heave us from the peak; we dug in.
And wondered at this enormous structure–perhaps a memorial for a fallen miner?
We stayed for a long time, grateful to be in the shelter of our Lord.