Somewhere outside Price, Utah, I found a red canyon, still stretched between what we know as time and space. When you have seen only a limited view of things, being suddenly aware of something different isn’t hard.
As you travel west in the United States, you will encounter mountains. One of the things you learn is how the sun hits your mountain every day. This canyon was a hidden niche in time, with its back to the west, all ablaze around her, in this glory of a desert sunset, she looked out in easterly fashion, across a world of all things.
Personally, I found this canyon to be incrediby heavy, as if I was trespassing. Even the people living here were strangely weird, as if they too had become lost between two worlds. In a dark hour, one should have a secret place of strong hold, with view of the bet below. This beautiful red canyon was like an outdoor movie theatre with so many stories to tell.
A few times, I have been privileged to set my own paws down on such sacred grounds. Here many people have lain down, we respect sacred spirit. It should not have to be said, whether speaking to those near or far, with fiery opinion, or relentless pursuit of some ideal of power, to respect people who live on the land. To the people of the big cities, we would invite you to try it. Before you become old and satisfied, you should go west.
Remote viewing seems all we have left. When the necessity of a scrappy old girl is no longer needed, it is possible to fly far, in an instant, and find our red canyon, and there are many. There is a blue canyon that faces the west, as mountains go, and the view there is aspens, across to the clear running stream… maybe you know this place too.