Sun beat through the corridor of green, warm in its closeness. The rocks here knew much more of the sky than those in the valley: they were subjected to its forces in a more intimate and constant way. Throughout the ridge-top woods, they squelched in pockets of rich mud, glinting with infinite sparkles of reflected gold; flashes of broken mica. Little swarms of black bugs danced where moisture met sun, and the still inhabitants baked in resplendent clear rays. In other places the rocks thrust vulnerability past flora and fern and into the raw blue sky, wetted only by the passing clouds and rain. Their edges had weathered and faded from the unrelenting elements, and they met such a life with stoic gusto. They may not have the soft blankets of loam, moss, and deep earth that sheltered their brethren of lower elevations, but they traded that dark comfort for high views of bright sun and mystic stars. The gods were just as present in that edge where sky met land as they were in the deep recesses of the earth.
The group of travelers had stopped for the evening near one of these minor peaks, a small jagged outcropping along the ridge. After a light dinner, Ayleah went off to meditate on her own. The rocky woods provided nice secluded spots, and she found one with a view out to the east. Stars winked into their places over the vastness of land. A deep valley lay before her, and it was lit with its own stars: signs of the communities that lived down there. Beyond was another range of mountains, not quite as high as the one where she now sat. Their distant dark slopes enclosed the valley life, and separated the stars above from the stars below. Now she knew though that the whole of that land was filled with life. Even in the dark places, there would be gatherings of life; hidden sparks holding the web of existence together.
Back near the center of camp, the master of colors sat writing in his journal.
'...he is a man of capable physical and mental strength, and I have enjoyed his company. Heln came to me this morning with news that he was leaving to seek knowledge elsewhere. He thanked me most honorably but succinctly for my service, and would have parted ways on the instant. There was certainly an immediacy of his actions, though no sense of anxiety or hurriedness about his person that I could detect. No, it was rather the faint gleam of orange I perceived in his eye that made me follow along. Heln I fear has tapped through to something. He may have had a breakthrough he is keeping from me. If he has gained a contact to an elemental, he is important to keep in my sights. I will not let this one get away! I insisted that I had no need to pack belongings, as I was accustomed to living on the road myself. In truth, I should have liked to pick up a couple of sundry items from my studio, but I also did not lie: I will be fine for a few days. Anything I'm missing I will be able to purchase at Theron-Dean or the Gap.
'Otherwise my Plainfield friend has shown notable improvement from our time together. I have kept my eye on him while being on the road today, and have noticed his attention to the surroundings at an increased level. He has commented to me about the small changes he sees in energetic profile even between these neighboring summits and their woodland flanks. We have spoken before about these distinctions in habitat, and wondered at the 'elementals' that must inhabit them. If they are manifesting here, are they also doing so out West? Do the elementals of the Great Plains look or feel different from the ones here? In my mind they must, and so what are their unifying traits? What is an “elemental's” relationship to the piece of earth that shapes it? It is somewhat difficult to converse with Heln about these topics in such close quarters. Most of our fellow travelers do not seem as aware, and would not understand or might even be frightened of our topics. That is a shame in itself, but not for elaboration here and now.
There is one among our little group who greatly intrigues me. She is a young woman who I remember seeing around Isak's farm, but had never actually met in proper. She has a sort of presence about her, though of that I'm not sure even she is aware. She seems to spend a good deal of time in thought, even now I believe she is away from our group meditating. This in itself does not bother me, but I hope she opens up more during the course of our journey. I have experience in meditation, and am interested in knowing what she is seeking by the practice. I can recognize that she is exploring her senses; she has been listening to the road today more than watching it go by. Someone must have taught her well.'
True to the color-master's musings, Ayleah had been exploring her senses, but not just that of hearing. She had also smelled her way through parts of the day. It had occurred to her, as she had been preparing to leave that morning, that in seeking other sources of knowledge, she was still seeking them with her eyes. The forest had so many sounds, and smells, and textures, in addition to its glorious sights. Sitting in the back of the van with an open window, she was able to close her eyes and feel the forest as they moved through its sensory body. When they stopped for a break she felt like a figure in a gently-stirred petal globe. Everywhere in the world that Ayleah went, it seemed there was a whirling stage of wonders.
On their way, she could hear charming birdsong, the workings of the land around them, and a soft hum that might have been the collective of insects or the background pulse of creation itself. She could smell a whole separate world of things, just as rich as the one she lived in most of her life, if only she paid enough attention. Earth and animal, plant in flower and decay, smells sour and sweet and every conceivable mixture of the two came to her from the forest. Ayleah's realization that day was that each sense held an equal part of what made reality. Each sensing being might have a preference as to which was primary, based in their biological makeup and socialization.
One such as her could only imagine what the world might be like from the perspective of an animal who prides smell above those others. As in all things though, moving towards a balanced perspective increased one's understanding of the world; of other's perspectives and those in your own past. An increase in understanding was an increase in harmony through compassion, and so exploring the senses was crucial to her energetic work. Her parents had taught her compassion, and the scholars at the Sanctuary had taught harmony above all other pursuits. It was also an easy practice at the moment: the air smelled really good up here.
