To those who expressed concern about the earthquake in Mexico, my family and friends are all well. Where we live fortunately is built on solid rock and not prone to earthquakes though the tremors can sometimes be felt. Unfortunately and tragically Mexico City is built on an old lake bed so the substrata liquefies in an earthquake, that along with poorly built buildings many which were damaged in 1985 and only received facelifts went down.
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Gratitude is the over riding wave that moves us through these days. To be here in these mountains again can only be received as a gift of spirit. My first visit in November of 2015 brought me in contact with a world of magic and wonder, the subtle remembrance of things long past yet still present when you are allowed entry. On my first icy night in this regia while laying quietly on the bare ground as a fire warmed us in love with each other and all that surrounded us. It was then that I heard the soft sounds of the old people who came to this sacred stream to wash and fill clay jugs of water, their sounds were a song in harmony with the creek running over rocks. This creek is born within a great cave once home to a mammoth bear, pristine and crystalline it sings.
Creek running in front of our tent.
It was while we were setting our camp again that Cristian noticed a large sheep dog laying a short distance from us, never able to resist greeting a creature he went over for a friendly pet only to discover that this large noble animal was missing his back left leg, the wound raw and seeping so he called me over to see if we could do something for him. On inspection of his wound it was apparent that leaving it alone was best and that all we could do was love this amazing dog so we did, we fell deeply in love with his spirit for in spite of his trauma he rolled over for tummy rubs trusting us in a totality that is rarely met.
River our noble friend.
Our nightly fire is now blazing along with it the returning peace of the undisturbed world. Our new friend makes his way to the warmth of the fire and with big paws embraces Cristian from behind, the sweetness of this dog is unlike any other I have ever encountered. We decide to name him River with a sharp longing to keep him yet we knew we would have to say goodbye for River belongs to the mountains.
We didn’t sleep that night, it was only in the morning sitting alone at dawn with a fire lit that I comprehended that we were plagued by psyche contamination, random disharmonious thoughts left behind by those who have no contact with the truth of their inner landscape. And worse they left behind their trash, piles of discarded plastic plates, bottles, beer cans and cigarette butts. Such an absolute state of unaware consciousness to leave your garbage not only on the ground but tossed into the pristine stream. I spent part of the morning cleaning the stream for to do otherwise would be equally ignorant.
When I write I know it is necessary to speak not only of the magic but of what is wrong for to not do so is to ignore the all, to walk in ignorance. Somehow we need to embrace all of it to transmute the stupidity that is a plague on our Earth. Perhaps this is why we didn’t sleep, called as we were to work all night. The rains had also come into the valley during the night with great peals of thunder and lightening flashing in the sky overhead so we decided to seek comfort and moved to a Cabana room for the next night.
The next day we knew that we would need to make our climb to the sphinx for the weather forecast lots of rain through the rest of the week.
She is always listening and inside the gentle spirit voice lets her know that we would not only make the climb but would be blessed with sun.
I shake my head in wonder, accepting this message yet there remained the lingering doubt that what was intuited was nothing more than wishful thinking. So we set off, traveling light as the climb would take us more than 2,000 feet in a steep ascent. If there were any shadows of doubt following us they were soon dispersed by meeting this fox who not only showed himself but allowed us time to take these photos.
Fox watching us from the woods.
He allows us a few minutes to capture his beauty.
Stairway to heaven, we climb.
Magic mushrooms sprout up everywhere in the forest.
The majesty of pines and the golden Autumn grass.
Bear paw print on the trail.
The wind moved through the trees causing an eerie creaking of some dead trees rubbing against each other. I knew then just how stories of haunted forests had caught the human imagination. Almost simultaneously I started to sing some old nursery rhymes for I sensed that a bear was very near us recalling that it is best not to come upon one and startle it. Cristian’s brief look back let me know that he felt the bear’s presence too.
Storm clouds brewing in the distance.
We continue on with the wind gusting in our faces. I feel it’s cold seep through my clothing. My body is working full furnace as this wind starts to sap my energy, I walk on with slower more labored steps though not daring to stop for the cold. We walk like this for an hour to reach our destination, at times we dip behind a rise blocking the wind or turn a bend in the trail that takes us out of her grip. We are blessed by the mystical views around us walking as we are in low lying clouds that wisp across the mountain peaks.
Raven magic in the mist.
Mountain sheep emerge from the clouds.
The rain was splashing on the tin roof over our heads and the wind was whipping thick clouds around us so we were unable to see but a few feet ahead. Here we pondered the route down, Cristian was nervous to take the shorter but steeper descent as we weren’t sure if the blue cross trail markers would be visible in the dense fog and if it rained heavily the trail would be dangerously slippery. Letting spirit guide has been with us the whole of our travels and here we weren’t let down.
She hears the inner voice assure her that the promised sun would soon shine.
We were also still a hundred or so meters from the Sphinx which was totally occluded by the clouds, wrapped in a shroud of mystery. As we packed our bags we knew we needed to move on quickly as the cold was felt creeping in beneath our somewhat inadequate clothing.
She hears the voice again, “get ready for the sun will allow you to take a photo of the Sphinx.”
And then it happens, the clouds part momentarily and the rock formations are viewed. I jump up clumsily reaching for my phone in a deep pocket of my jacket and run down the steps to try and grab the brief glimpses of the Sphinx. “Sun, sun, sun here it comes” is playing in my head as a welcomed refrain. Cristian joins me just as the misty clouds sweep in again along with our lingering doubt on which way to take off the mountain. After a few seconds pause he announces “We are going this way I have a very good feeling.” So off we go down the steep rocky side of the mountain. Within meters we are greeted by the sun and blue sky, the rays warming us instantly and the breadth of our smiles a return greeting of gratitude. I look back in a momentary regret of not reaching the Sphinx and know it wasn’t meant to be.
One can’t be greedy for visions they are gifts of spirit and come when unexpected.
This rock guard of the Sphinx was all I had time to photograph.
The clouds on the distant mountain peaks with the sun at our backs on the descent.
The valley below … enthralled by the view.
Cristian revels in the beloved mountains.
The rain held off until well into the night when we were roused by the thunder and sound of rain pouring off the roof. It was a most blessed day, may our joy transmit the all to all.
