My Amigo, Omar and I traveled out to Milford, Utah. We stopped off at an old abandoned mining mill and smelter out in the boonies. There inside a decrepit torn building with a partially collapsed roof, we saw a Great Horned owl which flew out of the ruins and then returned a few seconds later. It wasn’t very far above our heads, about 15 feet and It landed up in the roof rafters. It looked back down on us with ruffled feathers and a quiet stance. This has been apart of a strange series of events that I’ve noticed over the past summer. Since July, I’ve had about five different coyotes cross my path and I cannot help but feel slightly superstitious. At first, it felt like bad luck but there’s beauty in all of this. I do not know what these events mean? Rarely have I had coyotes cross my path, if ever? Usually I see deer, or even skunks, but never coyotes. So the frequency of these events leads me to believe something strange is happening? I’m wondering how this may affect my life or if it is an omen of some sort? Being Mormon, and LDS, I cannot dive too deep into this mystery.
But life is beyond real or the confines of imaginary fiction. Something spectacular crawls through our reality of time and space. Events happen that cannot be explained. We have experiences like breaking down at Area 51 or nearly drowning in a Grand Canyon Flood. Or perhaps fate does exists and a perfect love story begins… Who knows? Maybe fate was never real, and we begin to fill our imaginations with crazy nonsense. Truly, I never really give up on faith and the power of patience.
As I roam desert wastelands, and talk to quirky strangers, I realize the beauty of this life and to have a strong faith in the unseen. Things happen when the time is right. As I write this, I listen to the crickets outside my open door out in the country and watch the sunlight fade into soft warm dusk. Fall is coming, and I ponder the adventures that await…
Now going down memory lane, this is a lonely flare but ignites in the cave of my dreams. I miss the deep starry skies of Flagstaff, Arizona and the snow in the Ponderosa. I don’t usually like the winter cold but the land of Northern Arizona captures my imagination. I miss hearing train whistles blow all night long as Santa Fe rail cars passed through downtown. Flagstaff is the classic, Route 66 train town and where the music of Johnny Cash grew close to my heart. Tonight, I let these memories catch fire…
And now, a short love poem – let the starlight capture your gaze tonight where happiness never sleeps and dreams never soften. A heart that is pure cannot deny the truth of what was real, and I love life because of what may be? Never forget the memories as they come and go and flee…