Mouth of the Valley



I finally understand experientially what it must’ve been like to look at the sun with a naked mind, unadulterated by religion or government. This morning I too was one of the sun worshipers, as, for the first time since arriving in Yosemite, did the myst clear, and from 7,000 feet, permitted the view of the 8 mile descent into the valley. My plans were to be heading south and back to Los Angeles from my campground by now, but a little voice, an internal knowing, told me to hide out in the park last night.

Yesterday, from heights of 4,000-6,000 feet, views were obstructed by fog and cloudy precipitation limited views to 2 feet at best. Because of the sun, I can now see thousands of feet, leaving no question as to why civilizations were formed around this planetary object. As I ascended to Glacier Point this morning, where I now sit, I created my own myths in my mind. Stories of how the sun sacrifices itself to give us the rain, to bring life and to cut passage through rock.

Last night was the first time that the clouds broke and that’s when I decided to embark on what would be the best bike ride of my life. If it were not for the precipitation and treacherous snow, the valley would not have cleared in the way that it did, opening my eyes as if for the first time while at the mouth of the valley of the gods.