In the canyon lands Of Moab, Utah, I find myself laying in a cave, on a flat cushioned surface of decaying wood, stone and ash, this is where I set up my camp for the past three days. I have not eaten or seen a single human-like creature for three days and nights now. I can only see a small cluster of stars, and the world looks bigger to me. It’s not that things had any more mass, but rather, things seemed to hold more meaning to me, like the small details became more clear and in depth, like the crack and patterns on the crumbling walls. In the enclosure I was in, outside of the cave and down the hill made from rocks and boulders, bursting particles of the sunlight would try in vain to reach my realm. Trees were growing, shrubs too. but not once in the day did these green little trees get the nourishment from anything other than the hot desert sun reflecting off the red canyon walls themselves.

It was quiet. The wind does not reach here. It would gust through the drainage a bit further out, away from the looming walls which felt almost like ceilings, bending and folding around me. Drowning me in the shadows cast around the intimate relationship between the broad illumination cast from the bleak sun and the gentle, yet looming presence of the cold rock above. At night, It feels like there is a big animal looming near me. Sticks would sometimes break without another sound, and I have an innate feeling of something moving around my enclosure. It may be searching for some food, or trying to figure if that food was me.

Sometimes Ravens will soar through the endless canyons, cawing to each other about what they see and hear as they move in and out from the ravines, and, sometimes into my enclosure. Their wings Beat in waves. The boom of their powerful wings, stroke the air, as they prepare to find themselves some foreign shenanigans and trick to learn as daily entertainment. When you’re out of contact with any human or technical interaction, social in nature, things start to get sticky so to speak. You Start to caw back to the crows, wondering if they will be around tomorrow after they lose interest in you.

You decide to spend some time walking around naked because why the fuck not? (let’s face it, you’d do it.) You also spend time, trying to get through the night when you’re sure there is something else moving around, dwelling in your shared domain. Whether it’s a mountain lion, or some other strange creature, you can’t tell. All animals know I am here, far before I can ever sense them, Giving the place an eerie feel.
My mind has started to disperse all of the normal chatter like traffic slowly thinning out from rush hour. Whether it’s from the lack of food, or the lack of communication to another human-like being I do not know, but it’s fucking rad.

This place is a beautiful and mysterious place. If I had not known the rules of the desert, I would have felt lost, and in danger. This place has taken good care of my Soul. I have been traveling with good men and women to keep this journey interesting and remarkable. As I join back up with my group, feelings of emotional outbursts overwhelm me, as we await the other members in silence. We laugh and express our happiness of what we brought away from that experience, but without words, we used something much more pure, a wordless expression. I respect the natives of this land who lived here and shared the abundance given to them by the stolid desert.

- Soup

Facebook Comments