A Birthday with Three Sisters

High in the mountains of Colorado near the town of Evergreen is a popular Open Space Park where the locals hike, bike and walk their purebred dogs in the saddle between four rock formations. Given enough motivation and some basic supplies you can find yourself far from the boundaries of the park with miles between you and the next inhabited area. This is precisely where I found myself three hours before my birthday in the summer of 2007.

I had, on a matter of principal, decided to avoid my family on my birthday and was wandering aimlessly about three miles from the nearest supported trail. In the late evening I shook myself from my thoughts and found that I had long passed the opportune time to set up a safe camp. In lou of a more common sense approach I settled for a large campfire and an old wool blanket in an open meadow. As the deeper watches of the night fell over me I stared through the flames and felt sorry for myself for growing older (chuckle) and being alone. Late in the night or early in the morning (I don't know which) I heard the silence break in a warbling howl which reminded me of a weeping child. Not yet afraid but definitely cautious I rose from the fire and stepped a short distance away so that my eyes could adjust to the dark. As the flames faded from my eyes I found that I was surrounded by a herd of Elk which had wandered into the meadow on their way to parts unknown. How I had not heard them I'll never know, but there they were picking their way carefully through the field and taking no notice of a lonely camper in their midst. As I watched their slow progress my senses adjusted to my surroundings I began to notice the rustle of wildlife from the treeline and the dull roar of a stiff breeze through a distant valley. Finally I looked up and was stunned at the depth of the the sky above me. No description, no metaphor no emotional outburst can sum it up when you feel that you can see to the very corners of the universe from your tiny perch in the world.

As I returned to the warm circle of my fire and settled in for the night I decided that no matter what my feelings were to the contrary, I wasn't alone there among the stars and wildlife of the mountains, I wasn't alone as I went about my business in the city, and I certainly wasn't alone with my family in such close proximity.

As a side note to the story I decided that morning to spend that birthday with the family (as I always do) but I continued that day with a better perspective brought to me courtesy of a herd or elk near Three Sisters Park.

Homesickness and the Second Moon

As I trudge through my second month in the Deep South I find the opportunities to enjoy the fragrant smoke of my pipe becoming less frequent. The only happiness I've had recently was the offhand wish for a good Valentines day from a friend who does not now nor will ever know what she means to me. At the same time my mind keeps wandering back to the Rocky Mountains. Though I was not born in the peaks of the Great Divide I still consider them my most fundamental home. The foothills outside of Denver were the place where I found my first social niche, my first love, my first trade, and the natural solitude which I learned to love and depend on in hard times.

The vast contrast between here and there continues to be the worst kind of culture shock for me. In several conversations I've mentioned the more drastic differences to a friend and driven her to the point of distraction over what she perceives as habitat snobbery. SO in the interest of better Zen I'm going to focus on some memories of my home and see if I can impart the poetry of those little moments which, when experienced, seemed to mean so little...