Monday, July 16, 2012

Singing Stones

The Racetrack, at Death Valley California.
Copyright 2012
Far beyond Ubehebe Crater, where the crows and ravens play in the upswept winds, the paved road ends, and the Soul is free to follow the ley lines that sing to thee.

A place where mysterious large boulders seeming move along a dry lake bed; stories abound as why they move, these Singing Stones give testimony to the tenacity of life in a place called Death Valley.

Dry mountain ranges, large salt flats, endless rolling desert dunes, strange formations of stone, all in a place deep below sea level sing a healing tone.

The Singing Stones of the deepest valley beckon. The pillars of Trona rise from the desert floor like sentinels keeping watch to a sacred place. The minerals begin to speak, the smell of Sulphur, the great homeopathic remedy, permeate the air. Pools of Magnesium Sulphate (Epsom salt) dry in the desert heat to bring healing to aching bodies. Borax once wound its way out of the Valley floor in 20 mule team freighters. Quartz scattered all over the valley floor, healing hot springs abound, no other worldly water feels as good to swim in. It is a healing place, health it brings to the bones.

Gold once mined at Ballarat until a few years ago – the cyanide pools that separated gold from ore a toxic reminder of modern mans’ greed. For those who hear the song the singing stones sing know that gold always signifies vortexes, energy centers in the earths’ mantle. Death Valley and her surrounding mountains are full of such places. Such vortexes feed our souls, when our soul bursts to its full energetic space; this feeds the earths’, when the glow goes both ways healing occurs. Despite its harshness, it’s a place self feels invincible, in a very humble sort of way.

Below the salt flat valley floors, great lakes dwell. Fed by the Amargosa River, generally a dry river bed, she disappears beneath the surface near Beatty, the small fish underground here, the elusive river feeds.

In years of floods Manly Lake re-appears. Only 2 -3 feet at her deepest, before the hot sun sears her memory to reverse atmospheric tears. Then wild flowers blossom and paint the desert with cheer.

So many wonders, so much peace, in a place so desolate, no electronics reach, glorious silence, where the singing stones can be heard; the feet free wonder the ley lines and the body to lay in the hot, healing earth.

Here among the stones, snakes, desert sheep, coyotes, ravens, roadrunners and donkeys, you remember who you are and there is tremendous peace.




2 comments:

  1. This was lovely and evocative, thank you.
    Once, as a child with my parents, we ventured briefly into DV. Now that I am living in Arizona, I hope to journey there once more. Blessings, Renate!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you Darla,

      We spent a great deal of time in the southwests deserts growing up. Arizona, New Mexico, but Death Valley is one that just lights me up! You won't be disappointed!

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