Grimy Patina

It's been a few days. Six or seven, I think. In that short time they have acquired a kind of travel sheen from the dust and wind and occasional use as a towel for my wet hands. They don't seem to mind the neglect or abuse. They are holding my wallet, phone, knife, and keys on this road/camping trip along the California Sierras and Oregon Cascades. They are my summer work shorts, some Carhartts long in the tooth and frayed around the edges, and I have been wearing them every day of this little road trip. I don't know what it is about traveling like this that makes changing clothes seem so unnecessary. I just wear the same shirt and shorts for days on end, not minding the glowing grime. They don't seem to mind either. They seem happy and smile with a shine polished from use and protecting this body from sun, rocks. They keep what I need in place so I can enjoy the view, my mind almost as empty as the day I was born.