.....banished every morning to work. I leave, so that I can return. I tell this to myself, and to my Banjo in the window.
And every evening I return to hard yet forgiving arms, holding me closely on a bed of rock. I've found this soil to be the most stable, the most safe, and where my feet are the most sure.
There is a railroad bridge crossing the highway, connecting the canyon to the world. The gateway to Eden. As soon as I cross its boundary, I sink into silence echoing loudly down the canyon's sides. I sigh...even in the loneliness of the canyon I know there are others like me (Norman Maclean). It is in this loneliness that I feel completely understood and understanding. The stillness beckons me -- be.
Tension releases and stress dissipates as soon as I cross those tracks....into my sanctuary.
Finally, I'm home.....
.....even yet miles away, at the canyon's mouth teethed with tracks.
Softly passes the time here, as harsh as the land is. Daylight breaks slowly, light seen long before the sun. Intuition tells me, he's coming....yet he has a long detour through the plains, others get him first. I sense when he nears, like a dog who knows his master is soon to come home. And, I feel like barking, I feel joy, when he finally arrives. The plains get his virgin rays, but I get his golden -- the best saved for me...saved for the canyon. A lifelong love affair, only just barely a year old -- here, between me and these mountainsides.
Everything in the canyon struggles, everyday. But, I see strength in the defenses of plants and birds and mammals. The late-blooming wildflowers, the death-eating magpies, the fox calling for its mate. Weathered, wintered, and windblown; yet, we stand.
Notice, there is a kindness in anyone or anything who has to struggle to survive, towards others of like kind and making.
And the canyon...
...the canyon is kind to me.....
.....I've found my Eden.