May 18, 2002

RETURN OF THE EAGLE

I have forgone writing down any of my spiritual experiences at the Wilderness Cathedral in some time for several reasons, the first of which is that there has simply been too much to remember, much less time to write down.

For some reason I feel compelled to attempt to jot down just a few of the happenings of just one day, I guess because the Eagle had returned to Princess Point on the Great Spirit Wilderness, and the sight of the Eagle is always a good omen.

After an extremely long day, I drove the jeep down the mile long dirt trail to the sandy beach at Princess Point to look to Indian rocks and to decompress. The lake was deserted and the sounds of nature were not interrupted by motorboats, airplanes, far off trucks and cars, or any other human induced sounds.

The top of an ancient Ash tree had blown off and blocked the road, so in spite of extreme fatigue, I cut it up and tossed it to the side to serve as an example of the ecological benefits of entropy.

Upon arrival at road’s end, I walked along the sandy shore, with waves crashing against the driftwood logs and picked up a pocketful of Indian rocks. I had left my camera in the jeep, sensing that I would experience more wonders in isolation from the digital age and just as expected the Eagle, whom I had not seen since the ospreys returned to their nest, flew at treetop level over my head. I sensed then, that there might still be a glimmer of hope for the survival of Planet Eden.

My day had begun on the 11th floor of the Holiday Inn at Town Lake in Austin. The evening before we had watched as huge black waves of bats had emerged from their resting place under one of the city’s bridges. The sight of these wonderful and magical creatures had produced enough peace in my spirit to allow me a fairly stress free sleep.

Instant coffee. No time for a shower. Pack the bags. Pay the bill. Down to the car. Return to Huntsville just in time to copy maps, and drive out to the Wilderness Cathedral to meet a group from the Houston Sierra Club.

When the group of 20 or so concerned primates had arrived, we began our trek along a trail passing by the most wondrous examples of the Creator’s art—Catahoula barrens with cactus so pitiful one would think that they belonged in the Atacama Desert of Chile. Ancient oaks, festooned with Spanish moss, flocks of Great Egrets and Great Blue Herons, 35,000,000 year old rock outcroppings, lichens resembling the finest Raku pottery, tiny, anonymous wildflowers, and hundreds of species of plants from numerous Genera, both amazed and confounded the group of naturalists.

“Look, the Osprey is on her nest!!!” “Wow, I’ve never seen such a big Coral Bean.” “Look, I’ve found a dead Pelican’s beak!” “Is there a restroom out here?” “Why does that Vulture keep circling us?” “Where is the shortcut to the car?” “Is it ok to camp here?”

Finally, we arrived at the Rock of Anointment, and at least twelve in the group came forward and were anointed as Ethician Deacons. As the new Deacons were anxious to celebrate their new eternal stations a guardians of Creation with a glass of wine we returned to the Alligator Ranch house and “cracked open” a couple of bottles.

As the American flag flew in all her glory in the mysteriously cool breezes on this May day, and the Hummingbirds flitted about, our new Deacons toasted their mutual commitments to working on behalf of Planet Eden, and the Earth seemed thankful by providing us with a most glorious progression of fluffy white clouds against a deep blue sky, dancing waves glistening with reflections of sunlight, Egrets and Vultures floating together as if suspended in space, and the songs of happy birds in the swaying treetops.


ETHICIUS I


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