John Muir

THE SANCTUARY

Heavy with pack i am falling headfirst down a narrow granite corridor. It is shown vision clear: at impact — another half-second — my lower jaw will shatter on the rocks. In this remote wilderness it will likely mean death.

All has led to this moment: the prophetic dream at the foot of a large Mountain Juniper two nights prior; the backpack nearly lost into the river an hour ago; the brisk walk inside a hidden wilderness sanctuary to go quickly dry gear while day is still warm; the peculiar look of the rock that i forgo testing before grabbing it to climb down - which now hurls down into the corridor with me.

A fraction of second left...Jaguar appears...fall shifts to slow motion...wordless communication with the Great Cat...decision to live is made.

A feline body twist and the right hand comes between jaw and granite slab, even finding time to press against the rock and absorb some of the impact.

I crawl out of the corridor bruised and dazed. Soon a further state of shock sets in from realizing the enormity of what just happened.