Vortexed

Back to reality, I return. I guess (reality?). A state fair rodeo clown wear’s a mask looking like President Obama, and the crowd goes wild as the man behind the mic talks about the “dummy” being chased by a bull. A black baseball player has a banana thrown in his direction.

Surfers on the west coast wear hoodies too.

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Up on Hiline, pedaling with nerves a little on edge and trying to not look too much to the right side, I caught glimpses of Cathedral Rock and asked the gods, more than once, to vortex me all the way to the center of my bellybutton. I wasn’t feeling anything, so I stopped.

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I felt calmed. I felt like I was on solid ground, and not standing on pedals positioned in between rolling rubber tubes.

Back down and around I went, in the direction of where I began.

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Terry Tempest Williams. If you’ve not read her words, shame on you!

“We can learn something from this redrock country as we stand on its edge, looking in. We can learn humility in the face of Creation, reverence in the presence of God, and faith in one another for exercising restraint in the name of what lands should be developed and what lands should be preserved.” –Terry Tempest Williams, Red: Patience and Passion in the Desert

Seven days considering these thoughts. Walking and riding a bike in redrock wilds with skies bigger than ideals had me feeling very tiny.

rocks tower above
striae of colors
telling stories
that eclipse the
time i’ll be here
by eons and eons
and eons and eons

the rocks will
continue to do so
long after my dust
has settled into
a new life as a
stria of color
no time existing

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