It was a solo deal this year. I was kind of glad—in some ways, it made it quieter and freer for me. This place is some small abandoned quarry, right across the street from an oil refinery in North Salt Lake. I honestly have never seen this quarry before in my entire life. I called in the spirits of the four directions with my buffalo hide drum under small trees at the entrance to this west-facing place, in the warm 5:00 last-day-of-spring sun. Then walked slowly into a flat, wide area in front of the quarry.

Closer to the tiered walls of rock and dirt, was an area of scattered rocks and boulders, hidden from the road. There was evidence of people—clothing and a campfire ring, old bottles and shoes and tubes of toothpaste and shampoo. It seemed like it might have been a homeless encampment. At some point, I sang to the abandoned quarry—a spontaneous “Thou” song to a place no one saw, that may have house people that no one saw. I sang also to the unseen and unsightly places in me . . . whatever they are! The song came easily and was over when it was over. I sang Oh Thou I See You.

The place seemed quiet and almost protected though its invisibility, right in the middle of the city. I felt safe and happy to be there. I found some cool rusted bits and made a simple sculpture on a west-facing boulder. A tribute to someone caring for an abandoned place.

Really Trebbe, something very cool happened, yet again. Because I was alone, I could really feel myself and how this ceremony affected me. Something happens when you walk with, listen to and give something of yourself in an act of creation to a place (or person, or yourself, eh?). A connection, a deeper intimacy. It’s really crazy and really cool and really powerful.

Walking back to my car, I thanked the six directions (this time including sky and earth). I felt something had transpired and I was satisfied. Driving past the quarry on my home, I SAW this place that I’d never seen before, and waved a loving “hello.” Blessings to you my friend, and to this work.