I made my preparations, gathered water, nuts for a snack, notebook and pens, a warm shirt. My walking stick. The camera, tucked into the little day pack at the last minute. And then I drove out to the park.
I knew where I wanted to go. Frenchman's Bluff has a cliff overlooking the river, a place where wind and sun touch the bare rocky bones of the planet. A place where power gathers and will tingle up through my feet. I've meditated there before. I hadn't made the hike since I gained titanium enhancements to my ankle, but I knew there was a shortcut from the Equestrian Camp, and I was taking it.
My phone's mapping app helped me find the right turns, the right parking lot. I took my pack and my stick and started my hike. Three deep breaths, clearing my mind of negative thoughts. A moment taken to ground and center myself. A check of my shields. Then off toward the gravel road that would lead to the trail I wanted, with easy, sure steps, paced to my breathing, my heartbeat, and the click-thump of my stick at every other step.
Monkey brain, that chattering part of me that needs to know why and how, that analyzes everything, all the time, I set to watching for the trail markers, to making sure my feet came down safely, to keeping the rhythm of my pace. Wolf brain, that intuitive, curious part of me that lives now and here and also in the place where spirits travel, I set free to take the lead, to see and feel and do whatever I needed to do on this journey. Wolf saw the path up to the cliff before the rest of me did, and up the hill I went. Out of shape me panted my way to the top, but Monkey kept the rhythm even and Wolf kept me going until there was bare rock under my feet, open air before me and running water far below. I stood in the tingle of power and caught my breath.
There were steps on the trail. A woman. A dog. A man. I said hello to all three. Friendly people. Friendly dog. They went on their hike. I picked my place and sat. Monkey brain kept watch for danger, kept my breathing even. Wolf took in details. A yellow flower right in front of me. Wind noisy in the cottonwoods across the river. Two little songbirds that skimmed out of the trees behind me and disappeared into those same cottonwoods. A skinny little cedar tree clinging to the side of the cliff to my right. The smell of turning leaves. A daddy long legs hunting around on the rocks beside me. The drone of a combine off in the not so far distance. A white playball floating in a cage of roots at the edge of the river, slowly turning and bumping against it's woody bars. Wolf wanted pictures to take home, so I snapped a few.
And then just sat and breathed and felt the wind. Eventually, Wolf remembered my purpose and sent out a call the spirits, asking for assistance. My spirit pack came first. The white wolf, the black wolf, they nosed me a moment, let me know they were watching, and moved off. Brother wolf and Sister wolf came and stayed, bouncy and playful as always. Before long, I had to move. Sitting still is so hard for them, it always makes it hard for me. I stood, stretched, gathered my pack and stick, took a moment to thank the place for the energy it had shared, then headed back down the trail.
Wolf (and Brother and Sister) could have taken other trails, could have sent me on a long walk, but they didn't. They headed back toward the horse camp, toward the car. There was so much to see, though. Tree roots and tiny flowers. Fallen logs with shelf fungus. Broken rocks littering a steep hillside in patterns that resembled houses seen from an airplane. Walnuts falling to the ground with dull thumps. Two cars went past me on the narrow gravel road, and I waved at their drivers. Monkey brain stayed focused on it's task, and I didn't turn an ankle or take a single sliding step on the rocky, washed path. My stick tapped the ground with every other measured pace. Brother and Sister ghosted off into the woods, playing in the sunshine and the sound of wind in the leaves all around us. They stopped at the edge of the paved road I'd have to cross to get back to my car. Stopped just as the hawk flew over my head and landed in a tree just past that road.
I smiled and said hello to her. Brother and Sister left quietly, deferring to this living, shy creature. Wolf took me on along the path, across the road, beside the tree where the hawk waited. She watched me. Let me get a good look at her. And then she flew, skimming just a couple of feet off the ground, past my car and onto the top of a dead, cut tree. I followed. I left my pack and stick leaning against my car but took the camera with me. The hawk let me take her picture, not once but several times, while she alternately watched me and the field below her.
Then she flew. Past a cluster of shade trees, along the fence line, then up and gone. Did I snap a picture? No. I was busy watching her glide so effortlessly, until my attention was caught by a tree. An oak tree, of course, with leaves starting to turn red in patterns that were fascinating. I leaned against his trunk to look up, and was welcomed there, comforted by the solid, peaceful, happy presence of him. It didn't matter that he was a stranger to me. I basked in his welcome and shared my own joyful energy with him before I took some pictures, then leaned on him again, hugging him, thanking him for his kindness, welcome and the breathtaking beauty he'd shared with me. I wish the photo really did him justice, but it's a pale view of the experience.
When I turned from him, I was gifted with another photo op, some huge mushrooms growing at the base of another oak nearby. And when I turned back to my car, there was a beautiful view of early fall colors and clear blue sky.
It was enough, really. Although, on my way out of the park by way of a road I'd never followed far but my phone's map said went through to the highway, I met a small flock of turkeys, was waved at by a groundhog, and was totally ignored by a box turtle walking patiently down the side of the road.
This morning, Monkey brain (who has been analyzing all this all night and this morning while editing photos), says; "Look what happens when you just remember; Be, See, Play, and Balance. You have beautiful memories, nice pictures, and a new tree friend. And you're all charged and ready for tomorrow. You can do this new thing, if you just remember those things. Be your own authentic self. See what's there without judging. Play, because you can't take everything so seriously. And remember your balance, because when you are balanced, you are confident and sure of your capabilities." Wolf brain simply knows that I am ready.
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