KINSHIP OF A CANYON

One can be alone, but not lonely...and there I stood immersed in...immersed in awe. And as I stood there, I stood in awe. In awe of what was in front of me...The bigness and space, the beauty and timelessness, the starkness which was brilliant. But most of all I just stood...in awe. In awe of the loudness of its silence. The grandeur and the peace of this place was almost overwhelming. It seemed so removed from the chaotic-ness that we have come to know in our daily lives as "normal". It was refreshing and I felt the lifting and emergence of "something" in the inner most of myself. It was, in a word, inspiring. 

This canyon, Water Canyon, is in the heart of New Mexico. Anywhere that holds a treasure such as this has to be the heart, or a heart...of something. From the main road we looked up and into the distance at that mountain that cradled the canyon. It looked un-reachable--a destination that is always seen in the distance, but no matter how long you traveled, it remained just that--in the distance. We plugged on, traveling on faith and eventually the threshold was crossed and there we stood in the midst of...the midst of...God. It had to be... The loud silence was surely his voice. And in the breeze of that silence was the eerily, melancholy, beautiful and peaceful song of a Hermit thrush. All of this in perfect harmony with each other as are all thrush songs. Its only reply was its own echo. And somehow I think this thrush was okay with this. A trait to be admired. An angel...perhaps...or--the soul of the canyon. The Red-faced warbler that appeared in front of us--sat face to face with us studying us as we admired him. This, this was surely the heart of the canyon. He appeared and disappeared--as a dream.

As we wandered, mesmerized, deeper into the canyon we listened, watched, and deeply breathed in this aura surrounding us. This elevation stimulates and heightens our senses to a sense where they should always be! Still rising in elevation we came to a memorial marked "Adrians Adiose". A simple cross adorned with memories. It is obvious that Adrian was well thought of- I wondered if she knew this and hoped that she did. I think it is also obvious that Adrian adored this place. We do not know the circumstances of Adrians "adiose", but the fact that she "perhaps" "chose" it to be here should speak for the reverence of this place. I didn't know Adrian, but I now feel a kinship with her through the serenity of this place. Perhaps that Hermit thrush comforted her in that time of need and at the time "silenced the silence" for her. Not this silence, but that silence...I would also like to think that she heard God speaking to her through that silence-not this silence.

There IS a reverence in this place for us. Surrender to the silence and listen. I wondered if we continued further & further into the canyon would the peace get greater? Is this just a taste? Is this a path? What does Adrian now know? I like to think that she is now singing as beautifully as this Hermit thrush and in harmony and looking as beautiful as that Red-faced warbler. 

She is now included into the heart and soul of this place. May we always seek and find these canyons in our lives.

DUSK

Dusk...that spiritual God-gifted time of day when its no longer day--and not yet night. Its that time of transition not so different from the transitions that some of us "grow" through. A season of our life...I am not a winter person, never have been...but dusk is where winter and I came "to terms".

Cold, bitter, and blustery days winter does deal us...but under this harshness dusk is the soft side-the heart-of winter. Looking into the winter western sky we see it is often effused by that calming saffron glow. No other season soothes us with a dusk like this! It comes to us at a perfect time of day to warm our hearts and to help us reflect. Dusk is like the big, soft comforter we wrap ourselves in and wrap around our souls. It has healing properties of immense proportions that we can never grasp--the ultimate prescription from up above! It heals our hearts...there are "startling" dusks and some not so startling, but a dusk there is regardless, every day!

Dusk is when the "tide changes" for us land-locked and soul-locked dwellers. And this tide change is followed with silhouettes. On the horizon they begin--silhouettes of trees who have no choice but to be; silhouettes of deer and late going-to-roost hawks and herons, appearing to flee the dusk. And flocks of birds going to meet the dusk amongst the silhouettes of trees that will not depart, but wait for them. Its a comfort thing, I am sure. And then there are the silhouettes of owls because this is their given way. I often feel like a silhouette as well...They are just merely an outline of ourselves-the only part of the "true" self that shows with the pending darkness of our lives. This outline we cannot remove...We cannot see beyond the silhouettes of others because that silhouette is all we allow. Its a term..... And dusk is where winter and I came "to terms"....




WATER CANYONE

NEW MEXICO

 

 

Up in this canyon I found peace and serenity that I have not had for months...The total quietness was loud and inspiring...The singing Hermit thrush spoke to me and let me know that I am not so totally lost anymore...Here up in the no where, I started finding myself...again....