CALIFORNIA // MAREK OGIEŃ

I missed those sunburned deserts, I'm missing the shoes I lost because I thought if I dried them on the car roof, they wouldn't get lost, I mean, how could they! Ah, Death Valley, I missed you too.

I missed you, California. I missed your pastel sun, warm sand, and tall palm trees. I missed those waves and the coastline, the golden mountains this time of year, and the black cows that have the most beautiful view but still only look at the grass. I missed the 6-lane, 5-lane, 2-lane, then 5-lane again road, long and wide like this whole country. I missed the even sidewalks because I never look down and only there I manage not to stumble. I missed being on the road. I missed those never-ending sunsets. I missed my California because I haven't been there for so long, but I never really left. I missed a 30-pack of cheap beer. Wanna buy some weed? No. No? You look like a stoner, man.

I missed you, Yosemite. It's a pity you can't be closer. We would have gone on trips together, slept in tents, scared off bears, and sat by the campfire for hours. I missed that sky and the stars. I missed being out of range, and thanks to you, I went offline completely two days ago, with eggs and bacon, even though I tell everyone I don't eat meat.

I missed those views, rocky formations, the cold water in the stream, as if God didn't mess around with saturation in this part of the world. Oh boy, how much I missed it, that smell of rotten eggs again, while sitting in a river that mixes with hot water, and it doesn't matter that it's equally warm outside. I missed you, HWY395, and the small towns where I thought, "The world must have ended here a long time ago," but suddenly someone managed to install Tesla charging stations. I missed the rednecks, sheriffs, bars, good rock music, and playing ping pong in a bar.

I missed those sunburned desert landscapes, and I'm currently missing the shoes I lost because I thought if I dried them on the car roof, they wouldn't get lost. How could they, right? Ah, Death Valley, I missed you too. You know, Mikołaj, I would love to take a photo where it shows Death Valley, and right in the middle of the road, there's a coyote looking at me. And guess what? 15 minutes later, I took that exact photo! I missed you, California, because you fulfill my dreams. I missed that heat and the feeling that this isn't just human land and never will be. Hours pass in the minivan, and yet I already miss it, even though I haven't left yet.

I missed because I'm still missing in this car, and we didn't buy any beer for the road. I missed you, Walmart. You're better than all the Polish supermarkets in the world. I didn't think it was possible to return a tent without a receipt after such a journey and exchange it for a new one. I missed you, California, and all the things I hadn't seen before. I missed the spaciousness that I long for so much.

The Joshua trees are absolutely beautiful. I missed you all, but why did it have to be so hot? I missed hamburgers, tacos, beer, and the fact that maybe California doesn't have its own cuisine, but it has the best cuisine in the world. Thanks to the Mexicans for not going back home, please don't let Trump close down all the taco joints because I already miss them. I missed those cities even though I don't really like them. I missed you, St. Ross and St. Marshalls, I love shopping at your stores. I missed you, Californians, because I admire your approach to life, and I'm a bit jealous of it.

I missed my friends whom I didn't visit. Sorry, Drew, I'll definitely see you next time. I missed you, California. You changed and disrupted my life. I've become as soft as a cheesy bun, and now I don't know how to live without you. I miss you all the time, but I promise I'll come back. We'll hang out again, laugh, run, and goof around just like before.

Text and Photos: Marek Ogień // www.ogienphoto.com