Sacred Landscapes

Looking up from the rim of Box Canyon one finds a fiery display of aspen, gamble oak, Douglas Fir, Engleman Spruce, Blue Spruce, and Sub-apline Fir all hiding in the shadow of the La Plata Mountains and the sacred peak of Dibé Ntsaa (Sheep mountain, now called Mount Hesperus)

The black mountain (Dibé Ntsaa) to the Navajo Dine (people) is the sacred mountain of the North, the mountain of jet black stone. To many other's Mount Hesperus is a complex, layered mountain reflective of several intrusion events, a layer of bacon an pancakes called sills and intrusions. This mountain also marks a  high point in the small range of the La Plata Mountains. Although small and fairly remote, this mountain range is technically part of the large, violent San Juan Mountains .  The La Plata Mountains raise gradually for miles out of the vast high desert until the high peaks raise dramatically above glacially carved valleys and down-cut canyons.  The result is a geologically, ecologically, biologically and anthropologically diverse landscape. As I stand on the rim of Box Canyon my mind races endlessly through events that are only imaged and pieced together from scars left on the landscape. Imagine meeting a stranger and guessing at the story behind each of their scars, the only background information you have is the person's appearance... 

Rock type provides clues to how fragile the landscape may be, and maybe how old, however, the majority of information present must come from attention to detail and a great deal of speculation. Why are the slopes  on fire with the deciduous leaves of quacking aspen? Is the terrain suspect to a fiery past? Did natives burn hillsides to open the landscape to agriculture? Are these scars covered by successful reestablishment by aspen? Should I even be here? Do I pose a threat to the purity of this sacred mountain? 

As someone who has stood on top of the sacred summit and looked down canyon at this very spot my mind is racing with thoughts: thoughts of respect, mountains, desert, and life  all smashed together into the importance of what sacred means. I have been told that by climbing the sacred mountain I am cursing myself, yet I have given my blessings to the mountains. To the Earth. The right way, the traditional way. Yellow beasts that roar with man's fierce destructive power have long since uprooted and destroyed the young tree that carried my blessings from mind, spirit and soul to Earth, dirt, and life. Does this further validate my emotional commitment to the Earth and the mountains? Or does this break down and destroy my intentions of being here today?

Are the most sacred peaks demanding of special attention? Are sacred peaks just a plea to hold on to the few sacred regions left? In the chaos of modern development and expansion has the sacredness of the world been forgotten? I feel even those who hold the world closest to their heart have pushed their ideas of sacred towards a definitive, world class definition. When I sang  the song blessing the Earth immediately followed by a song blessing the mountains I did so with a global perspective in mind. The sacred mountains included not just the four sacred peaks and a few other spiritually important ones, but rather the blessing to all the Earth: the mountains no one has bother to name, summit or make famous through art were all in my mind. The mountains that were once deep oceans, the deep oceans that hide great mountains, the warm core that drives mountain building... all of it was in my blessing. 

I see the Earth in such a sacred way it sometimes feels no one relates to me. Those who do relate to me often seem skeptical and un-trusting in my faith of something so "nontraditional"  by modern standards. With such a close relationship to Earth why is it I always feel alone when Earth is filled with companions? Never alone, but always by myself I drive forward. I climb peaks to appreciate their magnificence and sacredness. I descend canyons to relate to their magnificence and sacredness. I embrace Earth to understand her and respect her as I do my mother. I read a story written by her so I can better understand her intentions, I personalize her so I feel at home, no matter where I settle. When the dust settles, will you trust your countries leader or home sweet Earth?