Wednesday, 30 July 2014

Dasiqox (Taseko)

Smoking myself over the fire before leaving, wanting to carry the essence of this place with me, on my body, on my clothes, on my fingers like the smell of a lover you don't want to wash yourself of. Spending this last evening in stillness after exploring as much as I could of this 450,000 acre landscape of wild wholeness. Moisture from the day's earlier rain is still in the air. Clouds spread a Zen grey over Taseko Mountain which stands perfectly silent in the distance as fish jump before me–leaping from their aqueous dimension like psychedelic adventurers to see what exists on the other side. While being out here I've watched grizzly bears shamble with solitary contentment through the meadows on higher slopes, shared a grassy knoll with a lynx, and found places where wolves and moose affirm their timeless relationship by tracks they left pressed into the mud. For ten days I've been alone but loons have kept me company–when I call they answer. When my belly grumbles there is no fee required to fill it, just the respect I offer to those who give themselves so I can eat. My days have been spent on the ground and upon the water, engaging my body as nature intended, tying knots with my fingers to connect things together, lifting binoculars to my eyes to see things more closely, and tonight, as I sit upon a lake shore the Tsilhqot'in people call Teztan Biny (Fish Lake), I'll use a harmonium instead of my voice to speak in reverential tongues to the innumerable beings that protect this place's sanctity from those who would destroy it.