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Posts from the ‘exploration’ Category

Offerings: “I am grateful for what I am and have.” HDT

I collect stones, driftwood, shells, etc. It’s not an easy thing for me to resist bringing them home. But I have discovered that if instead I make an offering with them, and record that act, I am less inclined to acquire and more inclined to “let it go.” After all, how much do we need? And of course, some of those rocks are quite heavy.

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I actually took all of the rocks you see on this ledge home with me. In the back of my mind I kept feeling gluttonous for that act. Finally, I went alone and gave them back from whence they came.

This second time, on my way return to the car, I spotted this boulder.  I held in my hand a lovely, palm-sized red stone I had picked up after replacing all the others.  I am a rock cleptomaniac. Should I take home my hand-held stone?  Should I leave it in this quiet place? 

” I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite, only a sense of existence. Well, anything for variety. I am ready to try this for the next ten thousand years, and exhaust it. How sweet to think of ! my extremities well charred, and my intellectual part too, so that there is no danger of worm or rot for a long while. My breath is sweet to me. O how I laugh when I think of my vague, indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment. ” Henry David Thoreau

Moon Lit

“Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake”– Thoreau

Mythical sirens called.  Compelled to follow, I drove alone through the night toward Vulan, Dark and JA volcanoes where I parked in the outer lot, empty until my arrival.  I was exquisitely and cautiously alone; a warrior is always alert.

Leaving safety behind, I climbed through an opening in the locked, metal gate and walked along the moonlit trail, a somnambulant hypnotically urged forward.  The vast open plain spread out before and behind, hushed but for the soft whisper of wind through the sage.  I thought perhaps I might witness something magical, something magnificent even.  Nature often rewards our efforts when communion is our purpose.

Through a haze of fairy-book wonder, I looked up.  Magic had already taken hold….luminescent orb!

IMG_20181218_193101640I stopped to watch a shallow stream of clouds pass over the moon.

The slow current flowed north to south along the western rift edge of the Rio Grande River Valley.  The moon danced in ether, bathed in a billowing diaphanous dress, a glowing sphere of mystery. Perhaps this nomadic community of water vapor had coalesced from the earlier heat of the day, or maybe this mystical mist had been conjured for my eyes only; a pleasure I was witness to contemplate.

Me, my moon shadows, and the sweeping sky above, humbling in its boundless grace. I laughed and twirled around whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

The intention had not been to actually climb one of the volcanoes.  The walk from the outer parking lot measures more than a mile and a half to the top, not a long hike during the day, but under moonlight one’s footing is always tenuous.  Plus, it was very cold.  I would return with wind in my face.  Yet, JA rose closest in the distance, a darkened silhouette, an old friend calling me.  An old cone calling an old crone.  I could not resist the summons, so I set out to climb the narrow jagged path to the crest, stumbling, sometimes tripping, but determined.

The top!  My reward (as if the sky were not enough): a dazzling, sparkling, display of city lights far below toward the east, toward the Sandia Mts.  Bewitched, I laughed with delight and twirled around again, arms outstretched, hooting and howling my “barbaric yalp,” no false faces necessary when only the gods were watching.

Cautiously, I tread across the ancient caldera and soon found a windbreak. Here I turned toward the stone, hugged the jagged wall of lava, literally hugged it…cheek to rock…forehead pressing cold, aged pahoe-hoe.  Silent, standing perfectly still, I swear I felt JA’s heartbeat against my own chest. Here I met with eons and millenia, with this 125,000 year old rock and a primordial sky.

Back around to face the east, I leaned against the lava while looking up at the night and nestled in for a prayer.  I thought of Thoreau’s good friend Emerson who said it better than I.

“Standing on the bare ground…all mean egotism vanishes…I am nothing;      I see all; the currents of the universal being float through me.”

I understood my wee proper place within the warp and weft, the fabric of the universe; I wept with gratitude. How fortunate am I…are we?

Sentient beings on a beautiful planet!

Vulcanized: Thrown into a Fire

“Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence.”    Henry David Thoreau

The path I tread over and over again these days is very narrow, very crooked, very jagged.  It leads me to that which I am in love: volcanoes.  Well, not just any volcano, and not so much the lava spewing caldera (though I have dawdled in awe near such a one) but rather the five or six volcanoes sitting in a southerly row on the west mesa of the Rio Grande rift valley.  

 

I do not visit as often as I would like.  I would live on one of these ancients if I were allowed.  JA, Black, Bond, Vulcan, Anam Cara (soul friend), all beckon, ...a tiny hut would do, a one-room cabin like Thoreau’s, or a simple cave from which to safely watch the weather unfold.

Power dwells here, along with peace and possibility, but also danger.  Tread nonchalantly at your peril.  This rattler is but one example of the many inhabitants: 

Startled on top of JA

But where you might find hell, you might also find heaven.  The noisy world of the city is replaced by silence…..the air sometimes so still, so serene…where solitude, ceremony, and insight sit side by side by side.  Come!  Walk with reverence. You will see (Carlos Cataneda-type ‘seeing”) not only visual wonder, you will see what wonder is and what can be.

What wonder is: the diversity of our planet.  These critters can all be found on one volcano…Anam Cara.  They are various bugs of the beetle variety.  Wonder-full.

What can be:  the image below begs you to imagine…

As the earth rotates counter-clockwise away from the sun, I give myself over to the swirl of the planet, orientate to the dance, and feel myself moving…a speck on the edge of this great sphere, grasping my proper place in the immensity of that which I am part.  Feeling, also, my connectedness to the universe and to infinity.  

Sometimes I climb seeking the full moon, and try to catch  the rising moon in my hands, 

 

 

 

 

 

then release the setting sun with breath.

If I stand on a volcano and wave my arms, I might produce the “butterfly effect” sending new winds, new events circling the earth.

If I stand atop a volcano and shout, “Take care of our planet!  Take care of our beautiful home,” I might change the course of fate.  It is right that I should consider these things both heavy and light, light as a beetle’s wings and as calamitous as human demise.  Vulcanized.

Chasing Water…Finding Flowers

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Rio Grande del Norte Taos, NM

Gradually, the village murmur subsided, and we seemed to be embarked on the placid current of our dreams, floating from past to future as silently as one awaked to fresh morning or evening thoughts. Henry David Thoreau

How blessed are we who can ride these currents, swim with the fish, dance in two mile high gardens?  Gratitude, humbled by the scope of nature, and the gift we have been given.

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Clarity on the East Fork, San Juan River, CO

You there! Mingle in the mountains, waltz with the wind, float the rivers big and small.  Give yourself over to the current…cooling your skin wetting your soul.

We went seeking relief from the heat.  North! Taos, Pagosa Springs, Durango.  We went seeking water; we are Pisces by nature, if not by birth.  We will ride most anything down a river, including our will.  Lacking flotation devices, we often take up a mask and snorkel.  64 degree water is difficult to swim, but still possible.  These things are not without risk; though most people shy from physical discomfort.

Why…why not bear witness to universal truths using all of your senses?

Time is but a stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. It’s thin current slides away,
but eternity remains…(hdt)

Inhale slowly, smell the rain-soaked mountains, truly see them.  Stick your finger in a sun-dappled columbine and taste.  Sh-h-h-h, listen to the breathless wind call out while birds and bees sing their rejoicing!

Feeling acutely aware…the rivers, the mountains, the air we breathe come from almost forever.  We live here but a moment.   Let’s be OK with that!

 

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N.I.O.T.G., Salas Ranch, NM

“A man’s interest in a single bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and flora of a town.” –Thoreau

Nature Investigators on the Ground (Bev, Glen, Kathy) came upon a salt creek, incredible rock formations and crawling things…ending the evening with a showboat sunset.  Many thanks mother earth, father sky.

“All good things are wild and free.” –Thoreau

(Click on any photo in the gallery for a slideshow, or pass the cursor over the bottom of each for a brief caption.)

N.I.O.T.G. Nature Investigators on the Ground, Bandolier Wilderness, Jimez Mts., NM

First post for N.I.O.T.G. > go to the menu above for fuller explanation. We followed Cochiti Lake Hwy. until we couldn’t.  Turned around and found the dirt road in the video. Drove 17 miles up to 10,000′ and over to Valle Caldera through Bandolier Wilderness.  Wow!

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