The sweeping views and territorial scat left by a puma on a narrow ledge jutting off the cliff top: the right spot for the night. Dusk falls and i head back to my pack on the plateau. But — incomprehensibly — the GPS leads me astray. Frightful realization: my backpack is lost and in it the indispensable safety gear for the night. With quickly dropping temperature and wind picking up, it's a rather serious situation.

After somehow orienting myself in the dark, i try, try, and enventually manage to run into the boundary fence of the Navajo Reservation — against which i had the dim common sense of leaving the backpack. It is then just a matter of following left and right until pack is found.

Boundary-ruling Saturn versus technology failing-ruling Uranus
— currently opposite in the sky and in the affairs of this world. My very bones feel the grand clash of these two archetypal energies.