Stillness


I was in southern Utah on vacation with my husband’s family several years ago when I decided to go off by myself for a quiet afternoon. I took a lawn chair and headed for one of my favorite spots near Cedar Breaks. It was August and at 10,000 feet the wildflowers were in full bloom. They were everywhere and there were so many different colors that I was in absolute awe.

I parked my car by the side of a dirt road that was in the middle of a field of these magnificent flowers. Rain clouds were beginning to build and I could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. There was a quiet stillness in the air as nature waited for the approaching rain.

I took my chair and placed it in the field of flowers and sat down to take in the beauty that spread out before me. In this particular area, the land is very diverse. I sat in the middle of rolling hills that were green with summer’s lushness and full of every kind of wildflower you can imagine. To my right were the red spires and tall cliffs of Cedar Breaks National Monument and beyond the spires there stretched at least fifty miles of more rolling hills. Because of the vastness and the elevation, I could see field after field of flowers as they decorated each valley and hillside near the ski basin of Brian’s Head. The clouds above me were just as spectacular, the deepest of blues and grays and the whitest of whites. They were billowing masses of energy preparing to explode. Occasionally, a bolt of lightning would break through them and add to the drama of the clashing wind currents.

I settled into my chair, took in a long deep breath, and then I became very still. I didn’t move a single muscle. I wanted to become a part of the landscape so I could capture the essence of this magical place quietly and reverently.

A hawk began to play in the distance. I watched him swirl, dip, and soar majestically above the flowers, his wings were spread proudly responding to the wind. When he sensed me, he came closer and began to dance for me. I watched….., I felt….., and then gently I began to deeply relax and listen.

There was no sound except for the thunder that was gaining strength and moving closer. Occasionally, I would hear the wind in the nearby trees as they felt the storm’s impending arrival. As the thunder grew closer, and I grew quieter, I slowly began to hear a distant low hum. The sounds of nature faded into the background and softly I began to experience the voice of my natural setting.  It began as a low hum and as I tuned into the hum it became deeper and I began to notice it had a rhythm; a pulsing sound that beat with the rhythm of my heart, and yet somehow beyond my heart. It became a deep physical sensation and I felt my blood keeping time with the beat. At this point, I couldn’t have moved if I had wanted to. I was in absolute harmony with my surroundings. I had become the field I sat in. I pulsed with the beat of the earth and I began to feel for the first time, deeply feel, the intelligence of this great planet and the impeccably synchronistic flow of nature.

The hawk moved even closer and began to dance with the rhythm. I moved with him. When he swayed, I felt my consciousness sway with his. As he dipped and swirled in and out of wind currents, I joined him. I flew to the voice of nature. In and out, up and down. There was no effort, just pure movement that coincided with the rhythmic hum that my heart was responding to.

The rain brought me back to my body. As the first sprinkles began to hit my hair, I regretfully gathered up my chair and headed back to the car. My body was still in it’s trance and I felt like I was waking up from a deep sleep, but I knew I didn’t want to be in the middle of a field while so much lightning was flashing all around.

I drove back to our vacation condo in a state of euphoria. I had experienced nature on a level I had never known before and found a beauty that had taken me far beyond my five senses.

What I discovered that day sitting in the field of flowers, flying with the hawk, was that beauty can surround us daily, but to truly feel its magic and to know the heart expanding, soul embracing depth of its beauty, you have to become very still.




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3 Responses to Stillness

  1. I feel like I am right there with you…

    The stillness before a storm is such a beautiful thing in nature.

    I’ve had similar experiences in my work with horses where I can feel them moving with me. A rider can be so in tune with a horse that it is as though you are really one creature….

    The hawk moving in harmony with the rhythmic hum of your heart is exactly how it feels when a horse moves with a rider’s thoughts. It’s a rarity that doesn’t happen every time you ride or even every 100 times you ride, but when it happens, it is euphoria…

    You are making me miss my beautiful southern Utah.

    I think I’m just going to take a glass of wine out on my deck and sit and listen for a while and then go sit and listen to my horses…

    Beautiful, as always, Kenna..

    xxoo,

    RMW

  2. Dawn Wink says:

    Kenna,

    You brought the world and this experience alive. I saw the flowers, felt the sun, and saw the hawk dancing above.

    When you wrote about the hum and energy of the land, I felt it. I will remember this as I walk the land. Remember to listen to the land’s voice.

    Thank you so much for this incredible piece.

    Love,
    Dawn

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