Sacred Pothole: Field Notes

Touch: Getting down into the pothole the rocks shift beneath my feet. My skin feels dry against damp stone. Hot against it’s coldness. The rock is rough, solid, pockmarked with lichen. Moss grows here as well, soft and refreshing against my fingertips. Up to a rock to sit on inside, the stone is damp

Smell: On the surface is the smell of dry grass, yet beneath is a dampness. There is a sour damp smell when on the left side of the pothole or on the floor. I associate the smell with that of a swamp. This place is an interplay of hot and cold, dry and damp. The smell reflects that. Dry grass is most pogent yet beneath it lies damp moss, and the shadows beneath dark rocks.

Sight: In our area there are three potholes – The walls of the largest are jagged, but with an unmistakable pattern. Directly in front of me is a hexagonal cliff face where, if you look from above, you can see the way the rocks cracked, creating jutting angles of rock from below. In many areas the rock has crumbled creating slopes by which we can descend. Plants and trees come alive here, vibrant from the surrounding landscape in their greens yellows and reds.

Taste: The rock reminds me of Mayan temples, how I imagine they would taste against my tongue. Deep, dark, cold stone, like dark bitter gravy without the salt. The grass tastes like – well – grass, threads pressed lengthwise like dry straw.

Sound: Yesterday it was quiet, here resides silence. No sound permeates to the bottom of this pothole, and I find myself tapping just to make noise. My ears instinctively make their own sound, a high whine that might not be my own ears but rather the little bugs – gnats I think –  common to this place. As we move in we bring our own sound. The clicking of cameras, voices calling across the circle, the shuffle of feet, a cough, a clap. At one point we heard a frog croaking from the marshes nearby.

 

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About Pan

College, Writing, Magic, Role playing, Blade dancing, love. That's just about my life. It's a little more complicated inside but that's all you need to know. I'm 20. In ways I am older, in many I am younger. Sometimes I feel ageless. I'm studying mythology - I love patterns, and how practices have purposes. Feast days and fast days and how they aid digestion. Menstrual taboos, and patterns of labor. Stories and how they cater to different ways of learning - this for the little ones, this for the minds just beginning to awake. I love to listen, especially if you have something to teach. I do not like having my time wasted - but while often cold, I warm quickly. Come talk. We'll see if we can make something of it.

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