I have struggled with death for most of my life. The death of loved ones, death of friendships, death of relationships. No matter how many deaths I have weathered, it never seems to hurt any less. There is so much to be learned from this Sacred place. This is where I sprinkled the remains of my father and grandmother. I have returned to this very spot multiple times in my life, mostly, to try to find some type of clarity.Each time I hope to see some sign, like the hawk that took flight when first put my dad here. Or when the deer bounded through the trees when I put my grandmother here some years later. This time was different. There were no bold or symbolic overtures. This time, it was more subtle. After a long period of sitting and watching the landscape my mind began to wander. I thought of removing a stick or stone from the water that would remind me of this pilgrimage. As I sat and pondered I was presented with an inescapable thought. “Take nothing from this place but pictures and 
memories”. I immediately grabbed my camera and started to capture the scene. As I composed one shot after another I began to notice the juxtaposition of life and death in this sacred place. As I turn my eyes to the sky I find it ironic that brightly colored leaves not only signified the change of the season but represented death in their own beautiful way. These colorful and vibrant leaves, that were falling gently on my shoulders had lived their life and died. Or had they? What if it was just my perception of what death is? Here, in this sacred place the leaves rest on the ground and entangle themselves protecting the new life that grows from the damp ground and reaches for the heavens. Soft and delicate greens that signify growth and new life. The water that spills over the rocks and fallen branches here is rejuvenating. It’s the life blood of nature.
There’s nothing more certain than death. It’s inescapable. We all struggle with it. Sometimes we carry it with us in unhealthy ways, like a heavy wet overcoat. I strive to learn from it so I can teach these lessons to those who follow me and will have the same struggles. It’s my sincere hope that I will evolve to the point where I can provide comforting insight to someone struggling with the pain of death.
I come here and miss my dad and miss my grandmother. Of course it makes me sad. My tears fall freely like the water that falls in this riverbed. But it also brings me such joy to know they will live on, through eternity, in Gods kingdom much like this river will flow, year after year thousands of years after I’ve left this sacred place for the last time.
This sacred place, it represents so much more than a beautiful resting place . For me it represents spirituality, connectivity healing, understanding, rebirth…
I stand here and watch the oversized snowflakes that have begun to gently fall, as if in slow motion. They intermingle with the leaves and make me believe I am watching Gods tears fall into the stream. Much like the leaves that have died and will now provide nutrients to fuel the new growth in this place, I believe these tears will feed me as I continue to grow and blossom.
As I keep my eyes on the sky I can’t help but be aware that the beautiful blue vibrant sky is being devoured by the dark gloom of a passing storm. But that makes no difference to me because I know that no matter how bad the storm is, the sunshine will reappear. That’s just how life works.
