According to Kootenei Indian fables from Montana, gods have designated a special place for all people to dance. This place is secluded – much alike their genealogically isolated Ktunaxa language – and remains hidden to many, including those who stumble right upon it. Kootenei people say, it takes a special state of mind to see this place. Unless you are ready to quit the comfort of your cavern, you won’t see it. Unless you are ready to dance, you won’t see it. Kootenei Indians call it Ya.kiⱡ Haqwiⱡnamki – the place where they dance.

I did not know or care about a dancing place that other day when rain had soaked me silly and I was ready to reel into my cavern. The drive from Great Falls to that place was littered in clouds. The torrent came and went but the dampness stayed. On such cloudy days, as the inside gets gloomy, it is an inherent nature of thoughts to convene quietly – like stars at dusk – and tangle up into a mystified dimension. Trying to vie away from such wet and uncomfortable thoughts, I focused on the scene in front of me. Hanging low over the reflective lake were shadows of two mountains – Sinopah and Rising Wolf – that were likely lovers long ago but turned to stone waiting for the other to relent. Behind them were other mountains conversing loudly with the taciturn sky veiled in cold clouds. Suddenly, breaking the gloom, a shaft of stormy light sneaked into the scene and faintly illuminated Sinopah's peak and my mood. Those tangled thoughts metamorphosed into truth of a newer order where one is acutely aware of – but, is in peace with – disorders within. Now, all felt well and I wanted to… dance!

You see, I had found my Ya.kiⱡ Haqwiⱡnamki and I really wanted to dance!

Tags:   TwoMedicineLake GlacierNationalPark NationalPark Lake Water Reflection Reflections Montana SinopahMountain RisingWolfMountain Sunset Stormy day Ramen Saha Ya.kiⱡHaqwiⱡnamki

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-----Prologue-----
“Seems like you have taken up the best spot already!”, I said in half jest to the photographer right next to me while setting up my gear for the above shot of Zion’s Virgin and the Watchman.

“You got that damn right!”, She said with that unmistakable British accent with no audible trace of jest in her response.

-----Act 1-----
To tuck in the Virgin river’s bend into the frame without backing off on millimeters and the Watchman’s proportion in the shot, I had to move my tripod by about four inches to the right. Problem was, firmly planted on the concrete one inch away was the stern British lady’s equally stern tripod leg.

“Would it be OK if I put my tripod right next to yours?” I asked as gently as I could.

“Yeah fine. Don’t trip mine over”, the flinty voice yielded.

-----Act 2------
While waiting for the sun to obey my wish and light up the Watchman precisely as above, I killed time by serving as an iphone-photographer for a group of three giggling Alaskan college girls (who never paid me my paltry fees of $5, do you believe it?), stretching my muscles in all sorts of shapeless contortions, waving at aghast drivers driving past the hoard of us photographers at 5mph, and talking again to my austere British neighbor.

“Are you from around here? Are you a techie in the Silicon Valley?” She asked me. When I told her what I do for a living, she broke out into a laughter and apologized profusely for stereotyping. From there on, our conversation took on a more manageable course. I learned her name was Mickey. Mickey is not on Flickr but she and her incredibly handsome and devoted husband were traveling the US with one sole purpose: landscape photography.

-----Act 3-----
“Why do we do this?” Mickey asked hinting at all the pain undertaken by landscape photographers (or, faux landscapers, like, yours truly).

“I don’t know why Mickey. I guess, we like chasing the light and stopping time.” The nerd in me was having a field day.

“Tell you what, I do it because it keeps me going. I have lost my son to cancer but all this running around with the camera keeps my sixty-year-old mind and body going. You know?” I noticed a hint of moisture in her eyes reflecting the orange glow of the west earnestly.

“Tell you what Mickey,” I said, looking straight at the unexpectedly revealed segment of her core, “you are damn right! To keep going... That is exactly why I do it too!”

-----Epilogue-----
Mickey, if you are reading this, then here is one more reason why I do it: To meet people like yourself on the trail who somehow have that magical ability to touch others in the span of a moment. Thanks for loaning me a pint of your life-blood to keep my soul flickering.

Tags:   Zion Watchman VirginRiver ZionNationalPark Sunset Sunset colors SunsetReflections Sunset thoughts Landscape River Clouds Ramen Saha Utah NationalPark

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Some migratory journeys are never supposed to have a destination; ask the setting sun. Some journeys are themselves the destination; those waves will insist. A few journeys are never peripatetic, but are a gentle flow in time; ask those boulders on the beach. And some nomadic journeys are all about finding and aligning oneself with one's core; ask me.

Tags:   RedwoodNationalPark NationalPark FalseKlamath FalseKlamathCove Ocean PacificOcean Klamath NorthernCalifornia California DeMartinBeachPicnicArea WilsonCreekBeach Sunset Ramen Saha Long exposure Rocks DelNorteCoastRedwoodsStatePark Driftwood ForestFireSmoke Smoke

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My dear Bapi,
You probably know how things are with me these days. Yes, I have scaled a few more summits in my life. At the same time, a few nadirs have plunged me to their depths as well. At times, when the air gets heavy and my lungs accumulate water, I think of you and how you reacted to my circumstances. When things were bright, the brightness would spread to that smile on your face, which would beam like a sunstar with pride. And when the going got gloomy, you would listen to my situation and calmly say, always, ‘everything will be alright’. Those words never sounded true, but your conviction felt warm like a few drops of sunshine in a deep dark forest.

Talking about forests, your grandson and I recently visited the Redwood national park and hiked a trail with a soulful name: The Damnation trail. The trail was lined by thousands of redwood trees. Some were young and others were old – perhaps, thousands of years old. These old redwoods have probably seen everything there is to see during a life. Like us, some redwoods are broken, some are burnt, others wilted and a few literally gutted. Yet, most of them stand tall trying their best to reach their stars. Perhaps believing – as all old souls like you do – ‘everything will be alright’. Such a hope never sounded true, but their conviction felt warm… yeah, just like a few drops of sunshine in your eyes.

PS: We miss you. Everyday. Four years later, your physical absence doesn’t feel real. With that smile on your face, you remain safe in our hearts where you still try to assure me in that calm voice… everything will be alright. As always, I don't believe you, but your conviction feels wet in the eyes.

Tags:   RedwoodNationalPark NationalPark CoastRedwood Redwood CoastalRedwood SequoiaSempervirens Sequoia Ferns Fern Sunstar DamnationTrail DamnationCreekTrail NorthernCalifornia California DelNorteCoastRedwoodsStatePark Ramen Saha

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Three entities – a scientist, an artist, and I – once visited the upper terrace of the Yellowstone National Park's mammoth hot springs area.

The scientist marveled at the ability of meteoric water (rain and snow) to coax out calcium carbonate from a 370 million years old underground limestone bed and deposit it on the surface as travertine. It didn’t escape his astonishment that life thrives in these hot, soapy water bodies (pH 7.5-8) as chemotropic and phototropic extremophiles. Life finds a way to exist despite extremes, he thought.

The artist on the other hand was fascinated by the ever-changing mood of this place. When the hot water flows, the white travertine tans into colors of life – yellow, orange and brown. However, when the water flow recedes, the canvas becomes blank again and waits for nature’s next whimsical brush stroke. In the meantime, travertine deposits grow and entomb everything – trees, stumps, twigs – in their wake. Colors come and go, but these travertine beds remain as life's lifeless cradle. Here, life finds a way to remain beautiful, the artist thought.

And I – the ultracrepidarian – thought, “Ouch! Way too many mosquitoes!”

Tags:   Yellowstone National Park Yellowstone NationalPark MammothHotSprings HotSprings Travertine Sunset UpperTerrace Wyoming Ramen Saha CalciumCarbonate CanarySprings

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