Sedona Spirit: Red Rock Walk
It’s already hot at 7 a.m.
as I step onto the trail around Red Rock.
Even the dust on the path is red.
It lifts into the air with my footsteps,
settling in between the laces of my boots
and layering onto the white of my socks.
I love this heat,
and the quiet,
and the clarity of the air,
and the western sky cloudless today,
tinted ocean blue.
My spirit here has changed,
is everchanging even now
as I walk where hundreds of years ago
soft moccasins of the ancient Anasazi caressed the red dust.
I no longer feel alone.
I am walking with spirits,
feeling their connection to earth and sky,
feeling the diminution of my body
and the elevation of my soul
as I stand at the base of the butte
4500 feet above sea level.
Some come because of the vortex,
the whirling mass of energy,
seeking spiritual awakening,
an energizing force.
I instead am calmed by the heights above me,
connected to all around me,
connected to the lizard skittering across in front of my feet
seeking the shade of the prickly pear cactus with its crimson flower,
connected to the touch of the sun on my skin,
connected to the almost audible ancient cry echoing in the silence.
The trail circles around the base of the rock,
shaded occasionally by a pinon or a juniper pine,
and I make my way back to the beginning,
wondering if ages and ages in the future
someone will walk where I have walked
and feel my spirit
and be forever changed.
© Barbara Flass 2001