The Great Spirit is strong in this place. Her breath penetrates your skin, her voice quiets your mind. Her body stretches over the landscape and titulates your senses into a realization that Nature is in control of this Earth.

Although this body of mine may not physically have a drop of Native American blood in my genealogy, the belief system of the original peoples of this land runs through my veins in a deep and profound way. If you come to the Southwest and listen to the sky and touch the red earth with your bare skin, you may feel this way too.

The outdoors is my Religion, for lack of a better word, and in particular the Southwestern lands of America. As I hike through Dead Horse Point I find no hypocrisy in a white man trying to connect to Native beliefs.

To the contrary, I believe that when one tries to empathize and understand another cultures history, it strengthens the bond between the two, making each half more complete.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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