One morning after a big rainstorm, everything was ALIVE and SCREAMING WITH COLOR! Flowers exploded like fireworks from both sides of the trail. Blues, yellows, reds, and the overall green-ness of the land was overwhelming. I swear, using my new shamanic senses I could Smell the growing.
I walked along, careful to witness every floral expression. They were telling me something, whispering across the pews in a catheral of chroma. I listened, watched, and waited.
Enormous blossoms like massive dandelions reared up, like full-grown lions. Within their intricate patterns I could see the big bang, birth of the cosmos, synapses firing and a meteor storm. Above all other exploding floral displays, they were most like fireworks.
I had recently finished reading Jeremy Narby's book on Amazonian shamanic knowledge of Ayahuasca and it's relationship to the DNA molecule. Just up the trail was a little reminder- a boring beetle had looped back on his own path, forming a scribble of DNA helix.
Springs were everywhere, gushing clear and very cold water from each of these pores. Around each watering hole was life, growing and engulfing, like this thick-haired moss that had all but coated the boulder beneath. As of this writing, I have hiked 9 of the 12 trails up Mill Creek Canyon. Some I have started but not completed. It is my goal to make good on them all, even those listed as "most difficult" in the guidebook.
I hike with my flute and rattle, keeping time and startling rattlesnakes into announcing themselves with one, singing out the flow of wind melody at the summits with the other.
I usually hike alone, with something ambient or provoking on my ipod, one ear tuned in and the other tuned to the world around me. I often consider the large questions while walking.
Who are we? Why are we here? Are there other, intelligent beings just out of reach across dimensions?
I think on these things.
I rattle.
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