
This evening I am suspended above one of the deepest lakes in the world - Crater Lake. Time ceases to exist here. I am at once an ancient volcano erupting with colossal, molten mounds of earth and liquid ash. I am a funky old growth forest, a dry sprawling meadow, an archaic underwater moss bed, and a sheer rock face. I am the lost Klamath Indian woman weaving her fish basket, and the transient national park visitor with a digital camera. I am also the intense ruby rose sunset, a third-eye panormaic vista, and the wind howling at top altitude to heard the stray clouds into pillow puffs, and stretch them into streamers for the Moon's bed. I am the languid dancer, telling the story of this night's segue from day with my glowing ornament and rhythmic movements. I am the paradoxical cyber-angel accessing, processing everything from the girl who (bless!) fervently journals down her wildest imagination on a cordless laptop amidst this unrestrained nature. The colors of the sunset keep squeezing out their tasty juices long after the fireball sun has descended from the stage.
Together we are all, all of us, one in this glorious moment.






