A couple of weeks ago I told you how I went to Fay Canyon with my friend John and we got horribly lost trying to find the famous arch there. I felt like the land was either testing us or teaching us how to approach it more respectfully. Either way, we were not alone; we ran into other people who were wandering around on scary paths in search of the arch. So today, I wasn't taking any chances. I wore my Elegua beads on my right arm and sang my little song of gratitude and offering.
It was very quiet as I walked down the path, wondering if I would miss the arch again. I felt a wave assurance and confidence, which urged me beyond the initial false openings. At a certain point I stopped and I saw the entrance to the side trail.
At first glance, it was bold and bright and clear. I asked myself "How did I miss this?" As I look at the photo, I now have more compassion for myself. I see it is well camouflaged. I can understand how that couple had come back two or three times only to find new false paths. Even as I approached it, though there were cairns all around, the path was slightly covered with bushes and thorns, with little signs of footprint or prior human visitors.
The arch is similar to the "Devil's Bridge" I had visited. Above the arch there is a wide flat swath of land, which I may climb up and walk across someday. Anyway, the rocks were beautiful and the short climb up to the arch took my breath away. "Whew! Somebody wants me to work for this experience!" The views from under the arch were spectacular. It seemed like a good meditation or picnic spot. Did I mention that it had rained the night before? Well, besides making the paths muddy and creating puddles, it brought the mosquitoes to life here. Since I was the only mammal on that hill, I was becoming popular. So, I said my prayers, took some photos, but did not tarry long.
Once again the rain had created a new environment. While walking down the mountain from the arch and back through the forest. I smelled the faint scent of hyacinth and myrtle. When I was at Long Canyon, this scent was powerfully strong. Ironically, since it was more subtle here, I could identify the source. There were extremely tiny white flowers on what looked like average "weeds." The bees did not waste any time finding them. Though they weren't following me like the ones in Long Canyon, they seemed to be all around me. Since they were distracted by those little flowers, none approached me or flew near me. Nonetheless, the loud sound of many buzzing bees was a little disconcerting. Now that I think about it, the other times I have been to this canyon, I kept hearing lots of bee sounds. On the other occasions, I could not see them. Maybe I wasn't ready.
I resumed my thoughts and song of gratitude, praying for an open heart. I made my way safely through the "valley of bees." At that moment, the clouds were moving away and the sun came out.
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