Sanctuaryfied

Its Fathers day today in the biggest sanctuary of copper colored stones. Copper Stones and cotton loans from the surrounding cotton woods of trees. They have a set life span and have reached their wisdom right about Fathers day 2011. The Zion mortuary for cottonwoods. Its fitting for the cooper colored walls of stones to release their names of Abram, Issac, and Jacob so contrasting to the watch of the cottonwoods. Patriarch is a wonderful word for father. Majestic stones named father’s of the histories of humankind. For here nature represents God more accurately then marriage.

The 2nd to last tram pick up is at 11:08 at the top of the canyon in Zion equipped with 80 minutes guided Zionland information. The daylight one was, tourists who didn’t bother, full. Without sun Zion carries the privilege of stars awarding a Weeping rock ½ mile trail consumption. During the sun clouds outrun land. During the sunless, land pins down the galaxy. The Patriarchs were star guarding and reminded me of the dark mountain that again chased me in my dreams as a short. My headlamp grows me 10 feet taller so I turned it on. Intermittently the world is like those miniature cabinets that hold spice, or on a larger scale, those 1970’s misshaped dark wooden box book cases that are now again popular. I climb from one box calling itself Sylvia Plaths poems and such, then hop into Freud, Adler and Skinner box; or from a salty pepper box to paprika. Weeping Rock is the only box of a fortunate rainy night next to a cloudless land square. Imagine worlds minus one sense. Headlamps allow for all senses at night. The trail destines into a whale mouth. Assuredly Jonah saw this when his fish yawned at 1:00am. The last shuttle understands the foxes and bucks and bewares of Zion’s Lions. Try to meet the driver with a son in Tucson.