New Friends

Barking dog, red hued horizon, the moon up over venus, boots muddied past the ankles, nose running, fingers stinging from standing in the frozen mud on the rim of the gorge talking to new friends, Sioux Matt and Greek Jessica, as the sun dropped below the canyon walls. They fed me artichoke dip on fancy melba toast, and we caught on fast. A jug of merlot was passed, but I told them of my cleanse and Jessica said she was a nurse, and somehow the conversation turned to colonics. In just a few minutes we covered our work (Matt is an artist with a gallery in pretty little Dixon 20 miles south), my burgeoning brewery (that sparked a flurry of conversation), Jessica's two marriages, the improbable length of the intestines, Matt's Sioux/Irish mix ("I'm the token Indian." "Really, in a place with thousands of Indians, you're the token?" "Well, for now, in this crowd." "Gotcha."), Jessica's nursing, foot cleanses, beer brewing, evil lawyers, music, Colorado, mutual friends (my friend, Anderson Khee, a Navajo artist, knows Matt well), the super bowl (consensus: Arizona), our instant likability, our astrology (me Aries, Matt Sag, Jessica Leo - a ring of fire!), our ages (we all look younger than our chrono numbers), the hope of Obama, the hard life of artists, costume psychedelic music shows, and how it would be nice to hang again sometime. How cool is that? Standing against immensity and shimmering color, the sound of a rushing, jade river 700 feet below us, the moon overhead, the hills showing their outlines, the noses, lips, foreheads and bellies, shadow raptors slow-winged and swooping over the mouth of the canyon, hovering, and the sweep of the Sangre de Cristos, with the rose petal blood of Christ lighting the snowfields under the vibrating pixie grape of the sky. New people, a circle formed without lines, a heart dropping into a cradle, faces becoming more beautiful each second we melt from the outside, as if we are being lit by the candle of the world, it's light emanating from below the horizon surrounding us. Top of the world, where the grinding of the gears tickles your feet. Sharing food, and smiles, and leading me to understand again this eden. Moments before I'd been standing on a lichens covered boulder on the north facing canyon trail, a last look at the widening river, it's blond grasses matted on the south facing side where the snow had melted off. I asked for guidance, radiated gratitude, felt for a rounded abundance, and a flow of health through my atoms. Asked for the ability to stand my ground in firm kindness and yielding peace, and to ask for what I need. And then I trudged through the ice, and then the plocking mud, mucking to my car sitting on top of the bluff, next to Matt and Jessica. Breathe deep the gathering peace, see light rise in every crease, do not fear the moody blues, for new friends can come in twos.

Couldn't resist that last part.