Finding Nature

Today the cards told me to spend time in nature. 

It's been dark and cold outside as of late. 

Another extreme winter is on its way into town. 

After about six hours in doors staring at a computer screen, 

crafting maps of the Utah valley, I needed some serious Gaia time. 

I picked up my dog and head up my favorite canyon, Millcreek. 

I plan to cruise up to a little pull off near the creek.
I am stopped early by the winter gates.
Too cold to enter.
Hmm.
I suppose we will park and explore.

I tend to stay along the river's path,
which unfortunately keeps us close to the road.
Access is continuously restricted during cold months.
My "wilderness playground" feels oppressive.

I perch with my journal, hot tea and a small toke
on a flat granite stone at the edge of the brook.
Kaya the dog runs back and forth back and forth
intrigue in her eye and excitement in her lungs.
She repetitively realizes how cold the water is.
Her white paws have turned a deep brown already.
I love watching her, my domestic pet in the thrills of "nature".
She gets tired and leans her body on my lap and turns her wild hazel eyes deep into mine.
Then she darts away to chase a bird, crashing into delicate fallen branches.
Being alone with her up here is as close to nature as I will get today.

There was a car parked on the street
that I could see it from my niche.
A cop car drove past instilling anxiety.
Kaya barked at hikers with their children.

I picked up the leash and decided to head in further.
I came upon a rock formation under a tree.
An oval shape was filled with big stones.
One read "King, your Momma misses you"
I looked up and Kaya was sniffing at a silver bowl
nailed into the tree that read "King."
I could not help but assume there was a dead body beneath these rocks.
The clouds darkened and the wind howled.
My heart thumped hard and I whistled at Kaya to move on.

I can see a stick along my made up path with a ribbon tied to it
I get closer and read "Do Not Disturb" on the piece of wood.
Thump. Thump. 
Kaya goes running up the side of the canyon to conquer some animal.
She is running up a steep slope that leads to another trail.
 I chase her up, pulling rocks dirt out of the mountain side
with my big trekking boots. Creating tiny landslides.

We get to the top and find but a neatly paved road.
No special look out. Nothing neat.
We look at each other with mere defeat in our eyes.
But there is solitude. We're sure far from the canyon road.
There's no one around.
Is this what nature feels like? Have I found what I need?

I retrieve my journal and write some prose.
The wind is blowing harder up here.
I thick grey color is moving over our heads.
Kaya stares at me nervously.
Leaves fly all around us.
An old tree creaks above me, so loud like it could snap any moment.
I look around me and realize everything is dead.
Oh what a sublime form of beauty.
Radiant colors of dead leaves decorate the landscape.
I suddenly feel the humbling fear
that fall weather could destroy us in moments up here.
Yes this is what nature feels like.

Kaya stands at the edge of the switch back
cocks her head back at me.
Her eyes beg to return to safer ground.
I must let her intuition lead me.
She dives off the edge and goes bolting down the hill.
I, on the other hand slide down on my shoes nervously.
Tearing up the Earth beneath by boots. It's steep.
Kay runs back up and barks at me aggressively.
I don't know why. I feel nervous.
She continues to bark as I slide my way down.

Me and Kaya. Her level of worry is very obvious.
This was her face in every snapshot.

I put her on the leash and she pulls me very quickly back to the car.
I can see a heavy cloud of peril heading up the v shaped canyon.
I want to stay and experience the storm
but my companion is in complete peril.
I turn up the car heaters and we cruise back down
the beautiful curving autumn speckled road.
Wind pushes my boxy car as thick rain drops splatter the windshield.

I finally begin to put it together.
This short lived afternoon experience-
that was nature.
Hearing the water run,
attempting to communicate with a border collie,
feeling the rumbling fear of a rolling storm.
I muddied my boots,
I sat in my own peaceful silence
appreciating the beauty
in all the decay around me.

Just a November afternoon in Millcreek canyon.
My land. My home. My semi wild semi nature place.

-Jane.