November 21, 2015, Prescott- I looked, to no avail, for a parking spot near the point where I left off on Prescott Circle, last Saturday. I have an ethic about such things: Never park on a business lot, unless patronizing said business. So, the second half of Segment 7 will wait until after Thanksgiving, most likely until the afternoon of December 6.
That bit of irrelevance aside, the outdoors, as is well known to my readers, is a huge part of my life. Positivity arises from the mountains, the desert, the beaches, the grasslands and the serene forests. Even the ocean has given me a sense of serenity.
Sedona’s red rocks and pine forests abound in good vibrations, as do “our own” forests, lakes and grasslands, around Prescott and vicinity. The vortices of Sedona are closely matched by Thumb Butte.
I have felt similar vibrations elsewhere: At Indian Gardens, along the Grand Canyon’s Bright Angel Trail; at both Spirit (“Devil’s”) Tower and Medicine Wheel, in northeast Wyoming; at Cahokia Mounds and at the Cairo Confluence, in southern Illinois; at Palo Duro Canyon, in northwest Texas; at Cape Flattery, Washington (the northwestern-most point in the contiguous United States; atop Harney Peak, South Dakota; at several points along Waikiki Beach, Hawai’i; and at more places than I can count, in southeast Alaska. Then, too, Spirit knows no boundaries: Stanley Park, Vancouver, the woods of Metz and Le Donjon, Rouen, France, held me in rapt respect.
The wind spoke to me, while on the ocean between Honolulu and San Diego and the rock along the River Trail glowed, in multicolours, when I first visited Palo Duro. Spiders rode the breeze, on their webs, at Cathedral Rock, Sedona and spun exquisite places of rest in Olustee State Park, Florida, while I watched, in wonder.
There will, no doubt, be other encounters on the road ahead. Nature eternally urges us onward.