During a past return in an early season to the desert we adventure kayaked through a mysterious canyon... There were deep side canyons there too, as dark as the river that runs by, which wind away like the many branches of a very old tree...
It is my impression that not many kayak these sections of this desert river, as we saw no others and few tracks or traces of those gone before... Only a number of old camp rock fire rings, blackened by the flames, and washed by the sparse winter rains...
This is a place of solitude, of sun, of secluded beaches, and overhanging desert foliage. It is a place of reflection from the waters and reflections within the mind... as one paddles, and drifts, and gazes upon the landscape. Places where the water and the land mix are always special; there is a nexus of the elements there, one where we more easily become a part of the mystery...
Rock formations by desert rivers have their own special nature too. Many are too old to count the seasons they have seen. Each is so very unique and I often trace my hand over them the way a close family member or friend may gently touch your face... The passage of time means little here; my few moments only so brief among the millenia...
The sun was so hot; the waters so cold. I enjoyed listening to the creaking of the kayak, the sounds of the paddle dipping in and out of the sun speckled waters. There was a broken paddle washed up on one shore... What a story it must have to tell. It was sun washed wood and a very old style. Maybe it was broken during a past time of fast water and furious challenges...
The reflection of myself in the kayak upon the water gave me pause to be grateful for that day, the canyons created here, and the adventures we are allowed there too. The shimmering heat across the water and rock, when looked at just so... could have been the movement of desert spirits on their own journey... They were likely watching the placing of a few simple gifts of Summit Stones by those fire rings and where some established trails met the river waters.
Such desert entities, such canyon spirits, would understand my intentions... Being there, they would already know the importance of such messages...
DSD
1 comment:
The rocks always have secrets, it seems. They have been there for eons and know the history of the land. If only they could speak.
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