Crossing the horizon
Tuesday, 01Sep2009 Filed in: tellus
This is a page from the third version of Technopagan Yearnings. There are some formatting differences. Originally published at www.neowayland.com/C188389413/E20090901124010
When I'm stressed, I remember
Leaving aside the business of my yard being dug up without my consent, the weather has been a little off. I'm right on the edge of a "heat wave" that has been working it's way across the state. There may be some of the LA fires in the air, but I know that there is smoke from some of the Utah wildfires and the controlled burn on the North Rim.
So there is enough gunk in the air to mess up people's breathing, and the haze blocks that wonderfully sharp horizon that I love to brag about.
I think I miss the horizon most. There is just something special about being able to climb a high spot and clearly seeing sixty, seventy, eighty miles away.
Ah well, this will pass.
That's one thing that the desert teaches, eternal unchanging is an illusion. The desert constantly changes through wind and water and earth. Time is just beyond the horizon.
hums
I was born not far from Monument Valley and Canyon de Chelly. They call it God's Country, and it is, sort of. Just not the god that most people think. It's not a church god.
There are sandstone formations where you can stand at the base and look up into the passage of eighty thousand years. That is still a drop in the bucket. At the Petrified Forest, you can look across three million years. If you see Zion Canyon, Bryce Canyon, and the Grand Canyon, you can peer across two billion years.
Try letting that seep in through your eyes to the back of your skull. scraping across your bones and out your toenails.
You can still find places where the afternoon wind carries the cry of the hawk and no human voice, where the hot dry air caresses the inside of your lungs with a lover's touch, where the sunlight stabs off the sandstone and through your brain.
There are places far away from where the light bleeds from the cities and towns where the night is filled with jeweled stars that drag you out of your body and into the dark sky and Mystery.
So there is enough gunk in the air to mess up people's breathing, and the haze blocks that wonderfully sharp horizon that I love to brag about.
I think I miss the horizon most. There is just something special about being able to climb a high spot and clearly seeing sixty, seventy, eighty miles away.
Ah well, this will pass.
That's one thing that the desert teaches, eternal unchanging is an illusion. The desert constantly changes through wind and water and earth. Time is just beyond the horizon.
hums
I was born not far from Monument Valley and Canyon de Chelly. They call it God's Country, and it is, sort of. Just not the god that most people think. It's not a church god.
There are sandstone formations where you can stand at the base and look up into the passage of eighty thousand years. That is still a drop in the bucket. At the Petrified Forest, you can look across three million years. If you see Zion Canyon, Bryce Canyon, and the Grand Canyon, you can peer across two billion years.
Try letting that seep in through your eyes to the back of your skull. scraping across your bones and out your toenails.
You can still find places where the afternoon wind carries the cry of the hawk and no human voice, where the hot dry air caresses the inside of your lungs with a lover's touch, where the sunlight stabs off the sandstone and through your brain.
There are places far away from where the light bleeds from the cities and towns where the night is filled with jeweled stars that drag you out of your body and into the dark sky and Mystery.
Stars above. Earth below.
Wind around. Water though.
Thought shapes passion drives spirit binds.
Posted: Tue - September 1, 2009 at 12:40 PM
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