Ominous Decoder

A tremendous wind started during the night and by dawn everyone had scattered from camp auspiciously seeking refuge.  Without any hope my party loaded the Jeep and descended the rim toward the fault, committed to check any turn, as every promise is often better than the truth.  As is the case with truth, so it is with the wind; pervasive, invasive & tenacious.

Here is a place easy to find, along a path long stolen from the wild.  Travelled by a removed and indolent population buzzing along seemingly content to remain unaware.  Some will linger here to mark a box on a list, some to claim connection, others, like myself, are knowingly lost.  Back into the storm we drove, past the tenement camps and diorama shelters of a people who believe they understand nature because they have stood near a marquee exclaiming it's power and beauty.  My own people, whose language, I have struggled to learn that we may speak as friends.

I suppose there is a story to be read on this rock.  If you are imaginative and slightly literate in a visual way the rock is no more than a billboard.  Mostly, that is, except for this detail.  Here I feel as though I am a stranger, invasive, this was not meant for me and the spirits on the wind have turned the sky red that I may not feel welcome.
My own language tells of a truth that glows in the stone, screams with the wind.  The spirits of the land demand that we learn to understand now in the face of an uncertain future.