Joined: 13 Feb 2007
Location: Mountains of Utah
Space and Time
Imagine yourself on a long winding, roughly hewned, black asphalt road through desert country. The scenery is pale sandstone, juniper shrubs and sage bush with scatterings of dry grasses on all sides. You travel for a good 30 minutes, pass a working coal load out facility, across railroad tracks, pass a natural gas processing plant and further into the bookcliff mountains of shale and prehistoric ocean beds.
At the end of the paving, another 20 minutes up, is a small coal mine and the beginnings of a hardpacked dirt road. You park your midsize car at the bottom wishing you had a high clearance truck, but know the hike will be well worth it. You climb. The desert has faded behind you. You are now in woodland worthy of The Smoky Mountains or Blue Ridge in the Carolinas. Or perhaps the woods of northern California, Highway 89 into Sedona, AZ or perhaps closer to Eagle, Colorado. No matter how you view them you get the sense you're not in Utah anymore.
After 20 minutes you come to the steepest climb that even a car would find challenging. The dirt is no longer packed, gravel and mechanical detris lie strewn about and you thank the stars you didn't attempt the drive. You see hidden in the overgrowth are the remains of a town that once existed a century ago and wonder what it once looked like. Then the air changes. The smells enrich. You hear distant water and climb the bank from the road to a small clearing.
You catch your breath and find yourself gingerly stepping, avoiding even the smallest plant or insect. To step on such would be a desecration. All around you tiny whispers. You make out boundary lines marked with star shaped flowers and feel intuitively you must ask permission to cross. Mosquitos land on you, but they do not bite. Not because they can't, but you know they choose not to. The wind suddenly whips up, rustling the ancient trees, but only at their tops, you can barely feel it upon your skin. You sense, hear permission granted. The clouds move in as you cross over. A single shaft of light pierces through and a hidden trail is revealed. You follow, feeling as solemn as entering a temple or sacred place. Reverence reverberates in every cell.
You cross a small trickle of a stream, through some close knit trees and find yourself in a clearing rich with history, folklore... the entire universe resides here. You are not in this world, though the physical eyes see differently. You know you have been transported and solemnly, with total irony whisper (you can't help yourself), "Toto, I'm not in Kansas anymore."
Your human eyes and senses know you have stepped from Utah, USA into the mystical hills of Ireland. All around you the Fey Folk are watching, curious how a mortal could find them, yet you didn't... you were lead to them. All along you felt pulled to this place, never questioning why, exhilerated by the sense of urgency. You've been given a gift and treasure it deeply in your soul. You commune for an eternity, listening to the unheard, seeing the unseen and when dismissed, bow with such gratitude you cannot express.
You leave as you entered, treading carefully and return to the desert once more. Knowing you are welcomed back, you nearly skip down the steep dirt road reaching your car in seeemingly seconds.
Forever are you changed. Forever you hold in your heart. You touched Eternity.
Until next we meet...