By Yvonne Marquez
Texas is rich in natural beauty. Because the state is so large, it boasts several different kinds of terrains and climates—breathtaking views of mountains, canyons, hill country, and plains. This beauty often feels like Texas’ best kept secret, as it may not immediately come to mind when people think of the state. I’ve lived in Texas my entire life and I’m just now appreciating the stunning nature found here—and how it heals me as a queer person living in this conservative state.
This summer, I’ve spent a lot of time outside—hiking, swimming, and wandering trails in state and national parks in Texas. When I’m outside, I’m able to escape the digital world in which we live, our faces constantly buried in our phones and laptops. I get to recalibrate, reset, and just enjoy being. For the first time, I visited Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, located along the Texas-Mexico border, near where I grew up in the Rio Grande Valley. Santa Ana is known as the “crown jewel” by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service because of the sheer diversity of plant and wildlife found there. Once you step foot in the refuge, it feels like you’ve gone back in time to when dinosaurs roamed the land. It is a landscape where Spanish moss drapes over tall majestic trees, filled with the sound of numerous bird calls, lizards scampering on the trail, and dragonflies buzzing around. I was able to admire the pristine Rio Grande from the banks. It’s the closest I had ever been to the river. While I am there, close to this natural border, I can’t help but contemplate the unnatural divide our racist president and government’s policies cause the people who risk abuse, confinement, and hatred to seek a better life for themselves in the United States. In a time when I feel helpless, nature offers me comfort and a place to grieve.
“The land accepts us and breathes us in as if we are a part of it.” -Yvonne Marquez
A couple of weekends ago, a queer friend from Austin visited me and my wife in Dallas. On the first night of her visit, we found sanctuary at one of the last lesbian bars in Texas. The next day, we found it again at Cedar Hill State Park. Not too south of the complex freeways that make up the Dallas/Ft. Worth metroplex, Cedar Hill State Park hugs Joe Pool Lake with trails running through prairie grass as it might have been centuries before. When we set off for our hike in the afternoon, the day was unbearably hot, and we couldn’t seem to find the trailhead. We finally found the right path and, setting into the trail, we updated each other about our lives since we last saw one another. We gossiped and philosophized about astrology and death. The rolling, tallgrass prairie listened as we asked each other, “How many times have you been in love?” A hike with queer friends under the endless Texas sky can be just as welcoming as the gay club. We were unabashedly being ourselves and speaking about our transgressive lives in the eyes of the state. Hairy legs and armpits and short hair under caps. Chacos and dirt. The land accepts us and breathes us in as if we are a part of it.
By far, my favorite state park that I’ve visited this summer is Dinosaur Valley State Park, about an hour-and-a-half drive southwest of Dallas. In late May, you can still catch scenic views of wildflowers dotting the landscape like mini color explosions, while the Paluxy River is full of movement after spring rainfall. The biggest attraction is catching a glimpse of the dinosaur tracks left in the riverbed long ago. My wife and I packed a picnic and took a day trip with our dog in tow. We found a good spot on the rocky banks of the Paluxy River for our bags and spent several hours near the water. It was the perfect day. It was warm (but not too hot) and the sound of the flowing river over the rocks was calming. It brought me inexplicable joy to see my dog swimming and happily chasing the pebbles we tried to skip over the water. I was in my hot pink bathing suit and stuck out among the earth tones that surrounded us. I held my wife’s hand and kissed her. As the day wore on, we smiled and told each other “I love you.” As a queer brown person, being outside is a declaration: I am here. I exist. I am a part of this natural world.
People who are not from Texas think the state is just conservative politics. Yes, the state is run by conservative politicians who protect the rich and pass laws that oppress women, people of color, and queer and trans people. But do people affected by those laws still live and thrive in this state? Yes. We’re out here living our fullest lives, sunbathing along flowing rivers and creeks, looking up at the sky, and witnessing the butterflies among the wildflowers with our gay lovers and cute dogs by our side. Texas is my home and while I’m outside exploring it, I’m unafraid and can be my whole self.
In October, my wife and I are heading to Big Bend National Park for our one-year wedding anniversary. I’m excited to witness a part of Texas I’ve never been to before and to celebrate our love. It’s an honor and a blessing to be queer and to be outside.
