Caveman of the Bonzai Forest

I stopped in the cave on the north side of the Bonzai forest. He was there, near the entrance, squinting in the sunlight. Crows circled overhead, a murder and a half at least, maybe more. A brown knit ski hat, pulled down to his eyebrows, and bending backward in the breeze, comically, where there was extra material, space for a cone should he grow one. His face was vertical, a long nose, but also sturdy up around the muddy green eyes, muscular cheeks, all lines leading downward, a mouth covered by brindle beard, sandy, red undertones, gray creeping in and scraggling down over a sharp chin. His eyes were set wide, propped up by the points of his cheeks, and it was hard to focus on both at once. I could see him riding with King Arthur, or Ghengis Khan. He said his name was Harris, which didn't seem likely, but he was genial, and unfaltering, and, although slightly hunched in the shoulders, there was a strength to him, a sinew of having lived outside and climbed for thousands of days.

The first time I came upon Harris, I had dropped off the trail to pray to the four directions in a place where the Tinkantananda could see me. Her eyes were made by the outlines of two circular stands of spruce just below the final antler velvet hump of talis leading to the peak. He watched in silence, leaning against a tree. I didn't notice him until I had bowed the last time, to the north, and saw his feet in sandals, hardbitten toes with long nails, the little toe on each foot pried away from the rest at 45 degrees.

I rose and looked at him. He was wearing a black hoodie and shadow covered his face.

"I like your ceremony," he said.

"Thanks. What are you doing here?"

"I'm spending some time up here. There's a cave over there. I think bears lived in it a long time ago. It has some good ghost energy."

He pointed down the slope and to the north. I was annoyed, maybe a little spooked. It wasn't that he was menacing, or even out of place, it was more that I liked to be alone in the bonzai forest, with my thoughts, the crows, the rabbits and the groaning trees. And he spoke slowly with a smile that you'd have to call wizened. But Taos has a lot of people like this. They find their way here through the cracks and pipe through the streets and up into the hills, sometimes out in the sage on the desert. At times they speak brilliantly, other times in tongues, but there is a rosy-cheeked rogue quality to most of them. Things are bad, but they could be worse, and here they generally leave you alone to skip along the creeks, and hide out in the brambles. If you want to die out here, you can.

"How long have you been up here?"

"Can't say, but probably a month."

"I've been up here 20 times in the past month and haven't seen you."

"I know. I've seen you a few times. Really like this ceremony you do, especially the part when you circle your hands for abundance."

"You've watched me do this?"

"A couple of times. When you go to that rock at the top of that ridge," he said, pointing up to where I often do my ceremony. It's a place where a lot of people stop.

"That's messed up, man."

"Nah, I don't pay much attention, and nobody sees me. Your the first person I've talked to since I've been here. It's no different than those ravens up there. They're watching you, too. You don't have a problem with them, do you?

"No, but they're not checking me out."

"I don't know about that. I'm not checking you out, just observing nature."

I wanted to get going. Dusk was dropping down and I really didn't want to talk.

"Well, good chatting with you, man, I gotta get going."

"Harris."

"What?"

"My name is Harris."

"Got it. Good to meet you, Harris. Hope it works out for you up here."

"Did you see those two ravens the other day, the one with the wing missing a swath of feathers, and the other large one with the loud caw?"

I had and they'd made an impression on me. The bird with the proverbial broken wing, but it was still flying ,and it looked like the other one was playing with it, helping it.

"Yea, I saw them. I was amazed the hurt one could fly with that chunk of feathers missing."

"I saw you that day up on the rocks rotating your head to watch the birds."

"Dude, that's strange, you watching me like that."

"I was watching the birds, too, and you happened to be up there. The things is, I've been watching those two ravens since I saw the hurt one drop on the rocks above the cave. It's a young one, and the big one is its brother. I thought it would die, but when it couldn't fly several birds came by each day and brought it food, and one day the big one picked it up and brought it somewhere else. But then they came back a few days later and I watched as the big one put the hurt one on its back, spread its wings and like a plane towing a hang glider, it took it up high into the thermals and let it drift in the wind until it started faltering and then it would swoop under and catch it. It was amazing. But the most amazing part of it was the laughter. These guys were having fun. Ravens are magic and they heal with laughter. I know there are all these dark, horror stories with ravens, but really, they're goofballs, and they like to play all day. And I could tell you noticed the same thing."

"You could?"

"Yea, and I wanted to talk to you about it."

"Alright, man, I really gotta go."

"Good to meet you, ah...?"

"Alex."

"Alex."

We nodded and I started back up to the trail. I wasn't sure what had happened or if Harris was really living in the cave. Part of me hoped not because I wanted to be alone up there, but part of me hoped I'd see him again. There was something in his eyes. And the weirdest part was that I'd watched those ravens for a while and the thought had come to me, "two ravens healing each other with laughter." I wanted to write that down, but I didn't have my pad and I didn't want to put it in my phone, so I forgot. This time I wouldn't forget.