Glistening evening light of Wolf Creek.
Here is an excerpt from my journal from July 16, 2017:
I almost forgot to do my daily ablutions in Wolf Creek today. This is rare. I finally did them as the last rays of sun filtered through stream-side trees making the creek look like flowing mercury. I soaked my legs – knees to ankles, which are itching and oozing from an encounter with poison ivy near Twisp. There isn’t much of it around here but of course my skin found it. I had had a day dream of perhaps never getting it again but then again our dreams aren’t necessarily realty. The cool water of Wolf Creek soothed my legs by basically making the numb.
The creek was breathtaking and I paused to watch the water tumble over rocks, sending spray skyward, catching the last rays of sunlight and refracting the light into multitudinous sparkles. Each spray of water seemed to hang in mid-air like the sunshine created a net upon which molecules were suspended in animation for a moment before falling back into the flow to join billions of others.
I knelt into the flow, splashing water on my face and realized that ablutions is not quite the right word for what I was doing. Yes, it involved water and prostrations of a sort but I wasn’t cleansing myself in any deep sort of way. Namely, I wasn’t washing away sin but rather I was saying hello to the creek each morning. Its a greeting and a way of connecting with place and by doing so the true self that is not separate from place. So “good morning Wolf Creek. How are you today?” And thank you for your cold, healing waters!