Miracle of Sage

One of the  trails at the Pioneertown Mountain Preserve is next to a wide wadi, a dry river except when it rains. In September, the wadi had flash flooded spreading a lava-like layer of mud.  It was stunning to see the different color and texture of the new mud next to the sand.  The new mud is thick, in some places as much as 6 inches or more, and feels good to walk on.  Not as much work as the sandy trail. The wadi starts out pretty wide and narrows as you get close to the canyon. On the way in, the three of us, my son and daughter, walked together. (I have four grown children.  These are the younger two) I pointed out a plant that I had once mistaken for white sage and how disappointing it was not to find it in this part of the desert.  Used for ritual cleansing and purification, the smell and feel of it is unique.  Especially fresh.  When you pick it, the smell sticks to your fingers.  Coming back, we spread out. About halfway, my daughter called over to me and motioned for me to come to her.  When I got there, I saw why.  White sage!   She spotted the plant in the middle of one of the widest points of the wadi -- I'm not a great judge of distance, but maybe it was 500 feet across at that section.  It felt miraculous.  This beloved plant, this desire to carry the smell of spirit and matter with me found by my daughter by accident. Only it wasn't, because she looked at every plant along the way and found the tiniest purple flowers I hadn't seen at all.  I asked the plant if I could take some with me.  I'm still working out communication with plants, so I'm not sure of the answer.  But I did try to take a small shoot which would not break off.  I went lower and a small branch broke easily.   It's sitting in my car on the dashboard, a potent reminder that miracles that can be found by paying attention.