Not a drop of rain. Extreme food crises had manifested widespread famine. Malnutrition and death due to starvation and infectious diseases engulfed the village.
“We must leave Sedona’s ‘spiritual vortex’,” Angie’s fragile grandfather said.
That night, Angie lost her whole family. Villagers left, and she tagged along. Families stacked up rocks to build cairns for their family members at the burial site.
Twenty years later
The urge to visit home had been brewing in Angie’s heart. She heard the village had come back to life. The Colorado River had brought lives, prosperity, and wealth back.
As she trekked, she saw rocks scattered around, decorated with nature’s moss and decaying leaves, reminding her of an ancient ceremonial gathering spot. Her sight wandered to a cluster of pine trees nearby.
Different countries. Different times. Different…everything.
The leaves crackled beneath her. The cold breeze whispering through the pine trees added a flute-like musical background to the melodious chirpiness of birds and scurrying rabbits. Angie felt the spiritual rejuvenation that a quiet walk up to the vortex could bring.
Suddenly, a blizzard broke the serenity of the surroundings. A sharp cry of distress through nature’s chatter disturbed her senses.
Angie dashed through the snow and ventured into Sedona’s vast wilderness, losing her trail with no recognizable landmark. The sun had dipped behind the mountains. Angie hunkered down for the night in her sleeping bag in a small structure made with leaves and branches.
Rattlesnakes could nestle up under my knees. Scorpions could plant on my forehead.
Next morning, the blizzard subsided. Her eyes opened at the sight of the blue sky. Questions swirled around her mind, each vying for an answer.
Then she saw them—rock cairns, six feet tall, like sentinels. There was hope. She reached to touch the rocks, stacked with smoothness, flatness, and metaphysical energy.
They provided an overwhelming sense of peace.
Connection with oneness.
The topmost rock sparkled with crystals. She looked around, deciding to hike on that trail. Angie kept looking back at the cairns, not wanting to lose them, but knowing she needed to move forward.
Big rocks, small rocks, a beautiful thing.
Angie came across four more cairns—a definite trail leading her to home.
She knelt, looking at the cairn—a tangible symbol of communication.
Standing upright, the woods looked very different now.
Straight ahead was a light. An anonymous voice beckoned her forward. She glanced back, feeling detached from what lay behind her.
This is the place where I belong!
She knew this innately. The woods were a memory, but she hadn’t completely forgotten her time there. Her future now lay ahead, toward the light.
Hundreds of souls rested there, filling the void between life and death, the layover to their final destination. The voice beckoned her forward.
Feeling weightless, she drifted toward the uncreated light. A sense of peace settled over her. She was anxious to be reunited with those she had lost.
Angie had completed the journey, and it was time to return home.
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