To Walk in Solitude, To Listen to Silence

Walking Down Old Baldy

Walking Old Baldy ©2010 Bo Mackison

The more zigzag the way, the deeper the scenery.
The winding path approaches the secluded and peaceful place.
~ Huáng Bīnhóng

Reflecting on what silence looks like. I ponder what a photograph of silence might look like, and then wander (apt word) through a few of my photo catalogs. I’m drawn to the many photos of paths or trails leading into wilderness areas, paths I walked alone in silence. A meditative kind of walking.

Whether I am walking along a sand dune, part worn boardwalk and part shifting sand . . . or through a green forest, thick with green vegetation, towering leafy trees, wildflowers sprinkling pastel colors amidst my feet . . . or tramping on a desert trail, worn deeply into the side of a mountain, stretching through stands of cactus, climbing over piles of tumbled rock . . . or strolling on the smooth pavement in a tended garden, walking further and further away from the crowds, deep into the recesses where few wander, but joy is found . . . or hiking along a snaking path through the wilderness of badlands, a barren maze of eroded land, ridges, peaks, and mesas — all of these I walk in silence.

I listen to the silence, for silence has a sound. I seek answers to questions and perhaps I’ll figure out an answer or two.  Or I simply consider the questions and seek no answers, the easier way to discovery is often simply listening.

Forest Path

Forest Path ©2011 Bo Mackison

“People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle.
But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air,
but to walk on earth.
Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize:
a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black,
curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes.
All is a miracle.”
~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Cactus, Rock and the Trail

Cactus, Rock, Trail ©2012 Bo Mackison

“Walking is the great adventure,
the first meditation,
a practice of heartiness and soul primary to humankind.
Walking is the exact balance between spirit and humility.”
~ Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild

There Was a Crooked Path

There Was a Crooked Path © 2011 Bo Mackison

“A fact bobbed up from my memory,
that the ancient Egyptians prescribed walking through a garden
as a cure for the mad.
It was a mind-altering drug we took daily.

~ Paul Fleischman, in Seedfolks

Storm Approaching

Organ Pipe Path ©2012 Bo Mackison

Our way is not soft grass,
it’s a mountain path with lots of rocks.
But it goes upward, forward,
towards the hidden sun.
~ Ruth Westheimer

Badlands-Two Trees

Two Trees in the Badlands © 2011 Bo Mackison

That’s the best thing about walking, the journey itself.
It doesn’t matter much whether you get where you’re going or not.
You’ll get there anyway.
Every good hike brings you eventually back home. ~ Edward Abbey

I find my way through the wilderness and eventually back home.

 

Petroglyphs in a Desert Canyon – Interpreting Ancient Symbols for Personal Insights

Petroglyph Canyon Wall

Petroglyph Cliff in Sonoran Desert Canyon

“Men come and go, cities rise and fall, whole civilizations appear and disappear-the earth remains, slightly modified. The earth remains, and the heartbreaking beauty where there are no hearts to break….I sometimes choose to think, no doubt perversely, that man is a dream, thought an illusion, and only rock is real. Rock and sun.” ~ Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire: A Season in the Wilderness

Deep in a canyon in the middle of the Sonoran Desert, the cliff walls transition from red and gray striated rock to a giant wall of petroglyphs, figures pecked and carved into an ancient layer of the black desert varnish which covers many of the rocky surfaces.

Scientists estimate that many of the petroglyphs were carved from about 300 A.D. until 1300 A.D..

The Hohokam may have pecked these petroglyphs while on hunting and gathering expeditions, or during religious or other ceremonies. Perhaps they are solstice markers, tribe symbols, decorative art, or even an ancient form of graffiti.

 Studying these mysterious symbols, I began to wonder at the message as it was intended, nearly a thousand years ago. A message whose meaning has disappeared just as the Ancient Ones disappeared from these lands almost overnight, back in the 1300s. Some of the markings do align with the solar calendar – one spiral in this canyon is precisely half-illuminated by a slit of light as it shines through a split rock, This happens only twice a year – at the vernal and autumnal equinoxes.

I viewed the spiral on the vernal equinox and watched as sunlight illuminated exactly half the spiral. On the March day when it is half light/half dark. Twelve hours of day and twelve hours of night. Halving the spiral into equal parts of light and dark.

Snake Petroglyph

Snake Petroglyph in Desert Canyon

Each thing in its way, when true to its own character, is equally beautiful.”  ~ Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

What messages might you take from symbols as they appear in your daily life?

After researching these petroglyphs, I realized:

  • things are not always as they seem
  • that sometime, in the mystery, lies the unexpected answer
  • that I see/study symbols and may incorporate meaning as I understand it into my life

For example, the snake petroglyph is geometric and prominent amidst the other carvings. There is no way to know what the snake symbol meant to the ancient Hohokam. Yet I can make my own interpretation of the snake and its message, as it pertains to my life, today.

Snakes become dormant in colder months, expending little energy. They are summoned by the lengthening days, by the sun’s longer appearance each day, and they move towards warmth and the life giving powers of the sun. Snakes move in rhythm with the natural cycle, the natural forces of nature. I, too, am drawn to the longer days and tend to slow down as the days shorten. Or I seek places of sunshine, places and spaces that provide warmth.

The snake is of the earth. It crawls upon the earth, burrows into the earth for shelter, warmth, protection. I feel grounded when I stand upon the earth, and focus my energy downward, anchoring deep within the earth.

Snake is ruled by instinct for survival. I, too, live by instincts – some of which I follow, often finding my way; some which I ignore, sometimes to my detriment.

Snake is powerful, often feared, and sometimes is killed or hurt unnecessarily by people who are frightened and do not understand the ways of the snake. How does this relate to me? When I follow my passions, and insticts, take risks, do the unexpected, how do others respond to me? How does this affect my forward movement?

What might snake’s message mean to you?

My Desert Office

Invisibility

“When I look in the mirror, I see a woman with secrets. When we don’t listen to our intuition, we abandon our souls. And we abandon our souls because we are afraid if we don’t, others will abandon us.”  ~ Terry Tempest Williams

When I am in Arizona, I often go to the desert to work. I follow my intuition and my need to settle into a place of sunshine, heat and silence, spaciousness and solitude. It’s not the place most people would choose as prime office space, but it suits me fine.

When I connect with nature, I experience a boost in my mood. My imagination switches to on, and I find my work projects more inviting. Perhaps it is simply a change in scenery. Some women I know find a quiet niche in their local library, head to a busy coffee shop to write with companions, set up a sewing table in the midst of their garden, or paint in a park.

But me? I head to the desert. I bring my backpack filled with writing materials and my camera, and settle in one of the covered shelters scattered throughout Saguaro National Park. These stone and “cactus-wood” shelters were built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), and still provide a shady place for me to set up my temporary desert-scape office.

If you are not finding the time for creativity, you are not finding the time for one of your main reasons on earth…to fully allow the creative force of your divinity to connect and move through you. ~ Jill Badonsky

The change of pace triggers the little child in me who says, “Yippee! I don’t have to work inside today!” Suddenly any resistance I may have brought along decreases and I’m more motivated to look at my scribbled to-do list–a very casual document–and choose an item that catches my attention.

I also give myself permission to begin by working in very small increments, especially if I’m considering a project I find overwhelming, technical or difficult.

“Just begin,” I remind myself. “Start working for just ten minutes.”

After ten minutes, I have already given myself permission to stop, although ninety percent of the time once I’ve gotten started I keep right on working productively. I have broken through the “get started” barrier, broken through the procrastination, the overwhelm – and I get my work done.

But if after ten minutes, I’m still looking at a blank piece of paper, or kicking my toe into the desert dust to watch it poof, or I’m distracted by the cactus wrens building a nest in the rafters, I change tactics.

Usually, when the distractions of daily life deplete our energy, the first thing we eliminate is the thing we need the most: quiet, reflective time. Time to dream, time to contemplate what’s working and what’s not, so that we can make changes for the better. ~ Sarah Ban Breathnach

I grab a tiny notebook and pencil and my camera, and I hike through the Sonoran Desert. I study the giant saguaro, I watch the tiny lizards scuttling from the shade of a boulder to the skirt of a low-growing acacia shrub, I stop and listen to the coyotes sing as they gather in the arroyo when the shadows lengthen.

If I need more time, more grounding, I’ll walk in the canyon deeper into the wilderness, and head away the few people who also walk the desert in the late afternoon. I might sit on a rock outcropping, and settle my feet upon the earth. If I’m taking photographs for a project, I take time to contemplate my surroundings.  Study the muted colors, the desert is awash in greens and yellows. The ocotillo’s bare branches swaying in a slight breeze, ten foot long sticks that will sprout green leaves after a rainfall. Birds chatter and swoop; ground squirrels chase each other.

The material of the artist lies not within himself nor in the fabrications of his imagination, but in the world around him . . . The artist’s world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep. ~ Paul Strand

As I pay attention to my desert surroundings, ideas pop into my head, often answers to confounding questions that I’ve puzzled over for hours. I pull out my paper and pencil to capture the thoughts immediately. Thoughts like these are as fleeting as the dream you remember upon awakening, but forget before your feet hit the floor.

I always write breakthrough ideas down, no matter how certain I am I will remember them.

Before I leave my desert office, I add a short note in my journal. This is my “ta-dah” list, a list that is the sequel to my “to-do” list. On this second list, I write down the highlights of my day.

Here is a rather typical ta-dah list from a desert office visit this past spring:

  • saw a bright red cardinal and it made my smile
  • wrote 200 words on the ‘courage’ essay
  • took some fun photos of three lizards in the shadow of a saguaro
  • walked the canyon trail and listened to the coyotes sing, wrote some poetry as I stood there listening
  • felt grounded and grateful

Communication – A Desert Wisdom Card

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Petroglyphs © 2011 Bo Mackison

Symbols pecked into boulders over a thousand years ago. What were the ancients saying in these prehistoric communications?

Though nothing is certain, it seems plausible that these rock figures were a means of communication. Whether they were symbolic, astronomical, directional, or ceremonial is not known. What is known is that these petroglyphs were a means of communication or documentation.

Imagine the many ways we communicate. Conversations, the written word, social media, body language, even in symbols and metaphors.

Petroglyphs in Saguaro National Park

Concentric Petroglyph in Sonoran Desert © 2014 Bo Mackison

A trail through the western part of Saguaro National Park leads to Signal Hill.

Here a large mass of boulders featuring dozens of petroglyphs. The  Hohokam chipped or pecked these petroglyphs into the desert varnish, the dark outer layer on rocks.

Petroglyphs in Saguaro National Park

Animal Petroglyphs © 2014 Bo Mackison

Some of the figures seem to tell a story — a hunter following a mountain lion or a deer.

Some are easily identified depictions — figures like humans, deer and wolves, snakes, turtles, and lizards, spirals and circles, mountain peaks and sun. But the meaning behind these simple etchings are mysteries.

Petroglyph Canyon Wall

Petroglyph Canyon Wall © 2014 Bo Mackison

Some are symbols that align at astronomical seasonal beginnings – solstices and equinoxes.

While hiking in a canyon, I met a scientist who had eight cameras triggered to photograph a rock wall of petroglyphs every few seconds.  He kindly showed me a phenomenon he had been studying for several years. A spiral petroglyph splits — half in light/half in shadow — from sunlight shining through a narrow slit in the canyon rocks at the precise hour of the spring equinox.

Petroglyphs in Saguaro National Park

Concentric Petroglyph in Saguaro National Park © 2014 Bo Mackison

While the petroglyphs hold onto many of their secrets, they still offer a glimpse into the world of people who lived over a thousand years ago, people who found a way to communicate with a sharp implement and a varnish covered rock.

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The first photograph in this series is the third preview card of the Desert Wisdom Cards Second Series now in the production stage. The words on the new series of cards are letter pressed, the photographs are printed, the cards are cut and trimmed. Currently I am assembling the cards and I’ve completed the design of the portfolio for the second series.

An announcement re: availability will be coming soon on my blog and newsletter.

The Essence of Place – Exploring King’s Canyon in Saguaro National Park

Three Cacti

Three Saguaro © 2014 Bo Mackison

Saguaro National Park is all about saguaros!

There are deep canyons, endless desert, blue forever sky, the play of light and shadow, but the biggest draw are the iconic cacti of the Sonoran Desert, the giant saguaros.

Saguaro Cactus - A View from Above

Saguaro Cactus – A View from Above © 2014 Bo Mackison

It is not often the tip of a cactus arm is easily captured, but on the Kings Canyon hike in Saguaro National Park, the mountain path rises above a stand of mature saguaros.

King Canyon, Saguaro National Park

Kings Canyon © 2014 Bo Mackison

Kings Canyon is dry on this sunny February day.

But after a heavy rain, raging flood waters can fill this canyon and overflow to the surrounding desert. A rock dam blocks this part of the canyon.

King Canyon, Saguaro National Park

Saguaro National Park © 2014 Bo Mackison

A stand of 50 to 75-year-old cacti, none yet sprouting arms. Typically a cactus will develop arms between 70 and 100 years, and can live 150 to 200 years.

Petroglyph Canyon Wall

Petroglyph Canyon Wall © 2014 Bo Mackison

Deep in the canyon, the desert varnish is marked with ancient petroglyphs. Snakes, spirals, human and animal figures are just a few of the many symbols.

Yipes Stripes, Saguaro National Park Visitor Center

Stripes, Saguaro National Park Visitor Center © 2013 Bo Mackison

Light and shadow is a large part of the desert experience, and even the buildings offer a light/shadow experience. The Visitor Center at the Tucson Unit of Saguaro National Park has a large outdoor ramada.

Stripes and saguaros!