Droplets of Diamonds

By Jerry Mack Grubbs

It was called Rattlesnake Canyon before a more inviting name was adopted. As I climbed the trail that crisscrossed the creek I encountered two rattlesnakes. No wonder this place was called Rattlesnake Canyon. Several times I started to turn back and find another place to do my hike and get my exercise. Something inside nudged me on. I wanted to make it to the top of the canyon and see the source of this stream. I pushed on until noon where I stopped by the creek and ate a sandwich from my daypack. After a brief rest I pushed on up the canyon.

In the early afternoon I came upon a third rattlesnake. This one was stretched out sunning in the middle of the trail. I found a long stick and poked the snake to encourage it to move out of my way. The snake refused to move. It would give a brief rattle of its tail to warn me off. Because of the steepness of the terrain I couldn't get around the snake. I felt like an intruder into the snake's territory but it was blocking me from my destination so I continued to agitate the snake in hopes it would move away and let me pass. Finally the snake moved into the heavy brush next to the trail. Now I had a worse situation. I could no longer see the snake or the threat it imposed. I had to decide whether I would take the chance to move on up the path in hopes that the snake had moved away or at least would let me pass unharmed.

Although it is difficult to explain now, at the time I felt compelled to go on. I crowded the far side of the trail and cautiously moved along, listening for the tale tale sign of those rattlers signaling a state of agitation by the snake. I passed by unharmed and proceeded on my journey. The trail became steeper and more difficult. The vegetation became denser. For a while the images of the snakes I encountered on my hike dominated my thoughts. Behind every log, nestled next to every bush that crowded the trail, my imagination saw another deadly rattlesnake lying in wait to plant it sharp fangs into my unprotected ankle.

As time passed I began to look up more and enjoy the creations of nature around me. Eventually I came to the headwaters of the creek that fed this canyon. The crystal clear water came pouring out of the rocks from an underground source fed by snowmelt from higher mountains. It sparkled in the afternoon sun. Just below this feature was a natural pool about four feet deep. I slipped off my boots and cooled my feet in the water. I decided that more than just my feet would enjoy a refreshing soak so I slipped off my clothes and slid into the pool. I laid my head back on the bank and let my submerged body lap up the experience.

I must have dozed off because I awoke with a start. The noise that awakened me was a woman standing in the middle of the pool. She acted as though I wasn't even there. I assumed she stood with her back to me to safeguard my privacy. I covered myself with my hands and said nothing but continued to observe her. I watched in silence as she dipped her hair into the pool and let rivulets of water streaming from her hair cool her neck and back. She did this repeatedly, each time pushing her hair back out of her face. Droplets of water beaded on her shoulders and back and sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. I felt so relaxed I forgot I was undressed. Then she looked over at me and smiled I knew her. When our eyes met, I awoke. I had been dreaming. The experience was so vivid I looked around to see where she had disappeared to. But she was gone. I closed my eyes and tried to will her back into my mind. It was no use.

I climbed out the pool and dried in the warmth of the afternoon sun. After dressing and lacing up my hiking boots, I gathered up my daypack and headed back down the canyon. I saw no rattlesnakes but maybe I wasn't looking for any. My eyes were looking up, not down.

This experience came to me on the 6th of August, 2004, almost three years ago, but it is as fresh in my mind today as it was then. I would paint you a picture if I were an artist and could convey on canvas what my dream showed me that day. But then, you are entitled to your own dreams and your own interpretations. I wouldn't spoil that for anything.